Addy From The Cheer Squad
by HardyBoyz4Eva
Summary: High School AU. Chris/Phil. Jeff/Adam/Jay. Chris is high school science teacher who hates his job. Phil is a punk that is stuck in an abusive relationship. Jeff is a budding artist with a not-so-secret crush on Adam. Adam is a cheerleader. Jay is a jock. Their connection? One football game that will change their lives forever. Slash. Please Review! For coleypunk-y2j.
1. Introduction

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone.  
**Rated:** M  
**Warning(s):** AU, Slash, Threesome, Teacher/Student, BDSM, pain kink, domestic violence, etc.

* * *

Chris allowed his eyes to scan over the classroom. It was his last class of the day, and while he normally would be excited (his Genetics class, after all, was his best behaved class of the day) there was one problem. His name was Phillip Jack Brooks, otherwise known as every teacher's nightmare. He sat in the first row, front and center, so Chris could keep an eye on him. But his seat was empty. He had come to school that day and his seat was _empty_. The little bastard was skipping his class.

Normally, Chris wouldn't have minded. A day without the little bastard sent him into freaking seventh heaven. But today had been far from normal. He had spilled his coffee on his new white button-down, rear-ended some bastard on his way into work, and had made it all the way to McDonald's before he remembered that his wallet had been in the pocket of the shirt now destined for the dry cleaners. And while he wasn't exactly fond of Phil's disrespectful behavior, he needed someone to glare at that would actually take the time to glare back.

With a sigh, he closed out of the attendance window. "Has anyone seen Phil today?" He asked nonchalantly, but a deadly fire burned in his eyes. They knew better than to question him right about now.

After a moment of silence, the young girl that sat in the seat next to Phil tentatively raised her hand. Her name was Serena. "I think that I saw him run into the bathroom, sir. His face was all bloody."

Chris raised an eyebrow. "Did you see what happened?" Before he could even finish, she was hurriedly shaking her head. She twitched uncomfortably under the stares of her fellow classmates.

"No, I… I've said too much already!" A dark blush coated her tanned skin and she stared down at her desk, embarrassed.

He paused for a moment, and then he said, "Come out into the hall and talk with me for a second, okay?" She looked up and nodded weakly. "Class, open your textbooks to page one-hundred sixteen and answer the questions. I'll be back in a minute."

The sound of rustling papers followed shortly thereafter. Serena had already made her way out into the hallway and she peered inside the classroom nervously. Chris flashed her a small smile, trying to convey that he didn't bite, but it didn't work. Once he was sure that the class understood the assignment, he slid his chair back and followed her out into the hallway. She was ringing her hands until the dark skin turned an unsettling white, which he had come to notice was a habit when she was in an uncomfortable situation.

Chris knew that, right now, he was sitting on a gold mine of information. Serena was Phil's best friend. Hell, Chris had reason to believe that she was his _only_ friend. And he was pretty sure that Phil wouldn't be a candidate for friend of the year. But even with this fact in mind, it was easy to see that Phil had confided a terrible secret to her. Tears bubbled in her dark eyes as she tried and failed to control her emotions. And then, in one emotive burst, she came out with the entire story.

"What I said earlier in there? I lied. I know that it was wrong, but…" she swallowed hard, "if Phil knew that I told you what had happened, he'd never speak to me again. He's my best friend and I don't know what I'd do without him and…"

"Whoa. Slow down, Serena. Just take your time, okay? There's no need to be so worked up about it." But his words only made her more upset and he didn't understand why.

"There… There _is_ reason for me to be upset. Phil's boyfriend almost _killed_ him and threatened to do worse if he ever told! Phil told me, but only because he wanted to shut me up about the blood. The bastard ripped his lip ring out." Serena sobbed.

"Where is he now, Serena?" A tremor of panic leaked into his tone.

"There was so much blood. So, so much blood…" Serena ranted on.

Chris took hold of her shoulders and shook her once. "Serena! Do you remember where he went?"

Serena sniffled and rubbed at her reddened eyes. The tears continued to pour from them, never ceasing. She nodded weakly. "He's in the second floor bathroom. There was blood everywhere and he just wanted to clean himself up…"

"Okay. Here's what I need you to do. I want you to head down to the main office and have them send down a substitute teacher. I'll take care of Phil, okay? He's gonna be fine. You don't need to worry about him anymore."

Serena only shook her head. "Until the next time he gets his hands on him…"

Before Chris could form his rebuttal, Serena ran off to do as she had been told. It didn't really matter anyhow. He would talk with her about this later, when she was in a better frame of mind. Right now, she wouldn't be much help to him at all. Remembering that she had said the second floor bathroom, he made his way downstairs. If he hadn't already known where it was, it wouldn't have been difficult to find. A tiny trail of blood droplets led to the bathroom door. It stood closed, dark and ominous, like a barricade.

Chris didn't even bother to knock. It was, after all, a public bathroom. The door opened with an awful _creak_ and Chris' senses were immediately assaulted with the smell of mildew and cheap, dollar store soap. He looked around. There was no sign of Phil. But the occasional hiccupping sob told him that Serena had led him to the right place. A light flickered overhead, spewing yellowing light over the off-white tiles. The blue stalls looked almost green like this. Should a high school bathroom look this creepy?

He started to walk from stall to stall, testing the doors to see if any of them were locked. There was no-one else in the bathroom, save for the two of them. After searching each of the stalls and doing one more quick search of the bathroom, he concluded that Phil was in the handicapped stall. This was confirmed when he carefully pushed on that door and was bombarded with the sight of dark, crimson blood. It stained Phil's _Guns and Roses_ t-shirt and made the paper towels in his hand look like rose petals.

"Why aren't you at the nurse?" It was all Chris could think to say at that moment.

Phil nearly jumped out of his skin. "What the fuck are you doing here?" But the sound was muffled as he gnawed on the paper towels.

"I could ask you the same thing." But then he sighed. Now wasn't the time to fight with Phil, no matter how much his day demanded it. "You're not tending the wound correctly. You're using warm water. That won't do shit."

Phil raised an eyebrow at the use of vulgar language, but didn't comment. "Since when are you a medical genius, Mr.-Science-Prodigy?"

Chris rolled his eyes. "I'm not. But I _do_ know that warm water makes you bleed faster." He took a clump of paper towels and twisted them into a ribbon. He then wet it with cold water. "Chew on that."

"Why?" Phil bit out nastily.

"Do you want to bleed to death?" Chris countered.

Phil's eyes lowered to the floor. Chris took that as his answer. "That's what I thought." Phil begrudgingly opened his mouth and allowed Chris to shove the paper towel ribbon into it. He bit down onto the hunk of cold, wet paper to hold it in place.

The two stared at each other awkwardly for several minutes. Dark, crimson blood stained the paper towel and spread out like a flower to the different soggy corners. Chris watched it, mesmerized. He liked to believe that there was good in all kids (Phil being the exception to that, of course), but upon seeing this, that entire system of belief could be called into question. Nobody deserved to sit in the bathroom all alone, tending to wounds that were created by someone who claimed to love them.

"You know, after all of this is over, I'll have to fill out an incident report…" Chris trailed off.

Suddenly, Phil was on his feet. As he bit down on the paper towel, more blood splattered onto the blotchy surface. "You wouldn't dare!"

"It's the law, Phil. If someone finds out that there was a physical altercation between two students and I knew about it, but didn't report it, I could be fired. Besides, I would think that you wouldn't want him anywhere near you." Chris said.

"I'll show you where you can shove your incident report! You know, for a second there, I actually made the mistake of thinking you were different." He laughed bitterly. "Just another bad call on my part." And then, he turned around and stormed out of the bathroom.

* * *

It was after the final bell and Jeff Hardy, the school's resident art enthusiast, sat out in the fields overlooking the football field. His sketchbook sat on his lap, open to a clean page. The wind would gently ruffle the pages and cause them to flip through all of the drawings that he had completed thus far. All of them were of the same person. His name was Adam Copeland. And, if Jeff were to be completely honest with himself, he had been the fuel for his creative fire since middle school.

Adam was the captain of the cheerleaders. With his long, fluffy blond hair, sharp hazel eyes, and winning smile, it was easy to see how he had achieved such an important role in his junior year. Dressed in his skimpy little uniform: short red and white shirt, tight red half-shirt that left deliciously pale skin to glimmer in the Carolina sun, and white sneakers just crusted with a fine layer of mud – he was easily any man's wet dream. And today, for Jeff, it certainly wasn't any different.

The music pumped loud and clear in the background. The routine flowed smoothly, and eventually, Adam was lifted onto the top of the tower. Jeff hurriedly sketched away, not wanting to miss such a beautiful moment. Wind tossed his blond locks over his broad shoulders and caused the back of his skirt to hike up, revealing a sexy white thong that didn't leave much to the imagination. Adam didn't even seem to be fazed by the fact that he had just bared his ass to the world, and they lowered him down with a sound of triumph.

Once he was satisfied with the preliminary sketch, he took out his art kit and started to fill in the color. Soon, the picture of Adam seemed to _become_ Adam. Adam, in all of his beauty, with his dazzling looks and his beautiful smile. Jeff had wanted him forever. And every time that he was unable to make it to practice, he missed him. But the beauty of living forever in want was that you can't miss what was never yours. And Adam already belonged to another.

Adam called for a break and wandered over to grab his water bottle. Before he could make it, however, arms circled around his middle and swooped him into the air. "Hey, hey! Cut it out!" Adam cried weakly, with no menace behind it.

"I can't help it, babe. You just look so damn hot in that little cheerleader's outfit, I couldn't resist you." Jay smirked lazily. "What do you say I take you back to my place after practice? My folks are out of town and…"

Adam's eyes flashed as he pictured the fun they could have. "It sounds like a date." And he leaned up, locking lips with his boyfriend. Without hearing a word of their conversation, that action alone broke Jeff's heart.


	2. A Chance

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone.  
**Rated:** M  
**Warning(s):** AU, Slash, Threesome, Teacher/Student, BDSM, pain kink, domestic violence, etc.

* * *

Despite the fact that Phil had told him otherwise, Chris filled out the incident report. In all of his years as a teacher, and even when he was a student, he had been committed to doing the right thing. Phil may hate him for it, and to be honest, Chris really didn't care if he did. Chris didn't become a teacher so that he could be loved by all of his students. He was there to be a fair and impartial instructor, who occasionally had the misfortune of informing them that life wasn't always fair. They would have to learn to deal with it.

But that didn't mean that he didn't hesitate to slide it into Mr. McMahon's box at the end of the day. The final bell had rung, and all of the students had evacuated the school like it was on fire. There were only two other people that would know that he was there. Ryback, who had no other name (or, at least, he didn't as far as Chris was concerned), who worked security, would obviously see it on the security tape. And then there was Mr. McMahon, the principal, who would see it and decide the punishment for this 'boyfriend'.

The man who Chris had taken the slip from (as Chris had never had to fill out an incident report before and needed a few pointers on how to go about it) had informed him that Phil would never know that he was involved unless he _wanted_ Phil to know. And he seriously doubted that he would. As much as he hated that kid, he had to give credit where credit was due. He was extremely talented with words. According to his English teacher, Ms. Guerrero, he read on a college level and was leaps and bounds ahead of the rest of his class.

"Is there a problem, Mr. Jericho?" Maryse, the school nurse, looked over her colleague with an amused smirk. "It's unusual to see you here so late. And outside of Mr. McMahon's office, no less."

Chris rolled his eyes. He wasn't overly fond of the blonde bombshell, who seemed to be more breast than brain. "I'm just here to drop off an incident report, that's all. I wouldn't want you to worry your pretty little head over it."

Maryse's eyes flickered to the dot of blood on Chris' collar, which hadn't come off. It was hard to hide blood on a white, newly purchased button down. "This wouldn't have to do with Phil, would it? Phil Brooks?"

"And what if it did?" Chris raised an eyebrow. How was this any of her concern, anyhow? Had Phil come to her and told her about his ailment? "Are you here to tell me that I shouldn't turn it in, just like he did? Because I'm telling you now it won't change my mind."

"Yes, Phil was in to see me earlier. His lips were torn badly and he was covered in blood, but thankfully the bleeding had stopped. It wasn't the first time that his boyfriend has done this to him." And, in a softer tone, she added, "And I doubt it will be the last."

Chris frowned. "This isn't the first time he's been to see you because of his boyfriend and you never reported it? That kid needs to be behind _bars_, Maryse. Not in a desk at this high school." Chris chastised her.

"It's confidential information, Chris. I shouldn't have even told you." Maryse said. "I can only tell someone if Phil is going to hurt himself or someone else, and I doubt that he will…"

"What's his name, Maryse?" Chris asked tersely.

"You know that I can't tell you that, Chris." Maryse sighed, unable to look him in the eye.

Chris turned around and slid the incident report into the box without another word. He didn't want to hear about doctor-patient confidentiality, he didn't want to hear about how he was always the last to know. What he _did_ know was, whoever this student was, he wanted him out of his classroom and out of this school. And, if he were to be totally honest with himself, he didn't like the idea of this bastard in Phil's life either. He was having a negative impact on Phil's grades – which reflected negatively on Chris, of course.

Maryse took hold of his shoulder, spinning him around so that they were face to face. There were lines of tension on her forehead and she looked to have aged ten years in that brief span of time. Her hand clenched around Chris' shoulder, but Chris brushed it off. He just wasn't in the mood to deal. He had made up his mind a long time ago that it didn't matter what other people thought of him, or, for that matter, what he did. The only one he had to please was himself.

"You're going to regret that when you find out who did this to him." That was just like Maryse, to take the information that he didn't know, couldn't know, and dangle it in his face.

Chris narrowed his eyes, immediately taking a defensive stance. "Was that a threat, Maryse?" He asked.

She shook her head, looking at him with poorly concealed sympathy. "No. It's a warning." She patted his shoulder. "You'd do well to watch your back. You can never be too careful."

"I think I'll take my chances." Chris watched her face fall as she took a few steps back.

"Whatever you say. But remember what I told you." Maryse said. Chris turned away. "It's your funeral." She muttered softly, before she walked off in the same direction that she had come from.

Chris turned back to the box and stared at it for a minute, before he shook his head. "This is the right decision. And Phil… he'll realize that in the end. We'll _all_ realize that in the end…"

* * *

Adam shouldered his duffel, which had his cheerleading uniform in it, and made his way out of the locker room. Jeff waited for him there. "Oh, hey Jeff. I didn't think that you would be here so late. Was there a meeting of the Art Club today?"

"No, there wasn't a meeting. I just… I saw that Jay left earlier and I wondered if you wanted me to walk you home." Jeff offered softly. He stared down at his books, not wanting to show Adam the healthy flush to his cheeks.

"Oh, that's okay. You really don't have to do that." Adam said with a smile. He brushed his blond locks behind his ear. "I've walked home by myself before. Besides, I have to hurry 'cause Jay is gonna pick me up for our date later."

"Oh," Jeff couldn't help the way that his heart sank with those words. It made him feel absolutely sick. He was happy that Adam had Jay, but he couldn't help but wish that Adam was on _his_ arm. "Well, I'll see you tomorrow then."

Adam nodded distractedly, obviously already concerned with his date with Jay. But then, just before Jeff left, he called out, "Hey, are you okay to walk home by yourself? Your brother isn't home yet, is he?"

"No, he's not home yet. But you really shouldn't worry about me. I'll be fine." Jeff offered an overly flamboyant smile as if to prove his point. It shined like a 100-watt bulb.

"You promise?" Adam asked. His voice was soft and the teasing in his tone was almost too subtle.

"I promise." Jeff waved, before he walked off.

It killed him to think that Adam would want someone other than him, but that didn't mean that he would let his personal feelings ruin the friendship that he had with Adam. If friendship was all that he could have, then he would thankfully take it. Sliding his backpack to a more comfortable position on his shoulders. The door to the locker room closed with a soft _thud_. Jeff could hear Adam inside as he giddily tried to make himself presentable for Jay. Didn't he realize that he was already beautiful?

Jeff walked down the abandoned halls, unknowingly a few feet away from the confrontation between Chris and Maryse. He would have walked right into the middle of it too, had it not been for a note on the school bulletin board. He stopped, his eyes scanning over all of the information there. There were notes about Art Club, notes about the Equestrian Club, wrestling, cheerleading, baseball, and the final note was for football. There was a football game, the last week of October.

_Support your school by drawing a promotional banner to be hung in the stadium at the game. We are strong, we are proud! The winner receives a kiss from Ms. Plato 2012 ~ Adam Copeland. Submissions due by October 20__th__._

Well, it was worth a shot.


	3. A Kiss

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone.  
**Rated:** M  
**Warning(s):** AU, Slash, Threesome, Teacher/Student, BDSM, pain kink, domestic violence, etc.

* * *

If he were to be totally honest from the start, Jay had absolutely no intention of driving Adam home to begin with. Instead, when he pulled his car up out front of the school and allowed the slim blond cheerleader into the passenger seat, he rolled down the windows and announced that they would be taking a little 'drive'. Adam had seemed a trifle confused at first, before an adorable flush had stained his cheeks and he had answered with a meek 'oh'.

Their destination was the hill behind the school, which was exactly a half hour away by car. It was secluded and the cops rarely bothered to patrol there this late after school. Normally, during the day, there was suspicious activity with drinking and other unfavorable happenings. The police would _have_ to come by because, even if it was a half-hour away by car, it was still considered school property and they were minors. But after dark… well…

Now, having been at their secret hideaway for more than three hours, both Adam and Jay had migrated to the back seat of the car. After three rounds of mind-blowing sex, Jay was currently easing in for a fourth and Adam was gnawing on the filter of his cigarette, his mind obviously elsewhere. He barely took note of the finger teasing at his entrance, or the teeth that worked on marking the juncture of his hip and upper thigh. In fact, he found little pleasure in it tonight.

Jay sighed, drawing back from his unresponsive boyfriend. It wasn't like Adam to be so unresponsive. It fact, for lack of a better term, the blond was a slut for cock. "What's the matter, baby? Something on your mind?"

Adam looked confused, wondering when Jay had stopped fucking him. "What?" And then he remembered what Jay had said, "Oh, nothing's the matter. I'm just… it's nothing, don't worry about it."

"For some reason, I don't believe you." Jay teased. However, his eyes were painfully serious. "Now, I want you to tell me what's bothering you, babe. C'mon, you can trust me."

Adam blinked innocently. "I'm not sure if I can. See, I feel like, if I tell you, you'll go all ape shit on me."

Jay blinked dumbly. "Do you think that I would _hurt_ you?"

Adam almost bit through the filter of his cigarette. "No, no! Hell, no! I know that you wouldn't hurt _me_."

Jay's confusion was evident. "Then who would I hurt, baby?"

"Well, there's this kid, Jeff -,"

"The little blond prissy bitch from the art department? Did he hurt you? I swear, if he even laid a _finger_ on you, I'll cut it off and stuff it down his throat!" Jay screamed.

Adam's hazel eyes widened. "Now, you see, that's exactly what I was worried about. God, I can't tell you _anything." _Adam hissed betrayal evident in his pretty eyes.

It took Jay a minute to realize the mistake that he had made, but by the time he did so, it was too late. Adam grabbed all of his clothes and opened the door sliding out into the night dressed only in his thong. He started to dress himself haphazardly, not caring that his shirt was on inside-out _and_ backwards and that he had probably grabbed Jay's jeans, because these were a trifle too short. He didn't even care that the cigarette fell from his mouth and fizzled out.

This was exactly what he had known would happen, what he had _feared_ would happen. Jeff was his friend. They might not talk a lot or hang out as often as they used to in elementary school and junior high, but they were _still friends._ And, he had to admit, it made him more than a little uncomfortable to think that Jeff would be home alone, without his father and brother. His brother wouldn't be home for two more weeks, and his father, well…

"Adam? C'mon, Adam. Just get back into the car. You'll freeze your pretty little ass off out there." Jay said.

Adam turned back to his boyfriend, his eyes cold. "I wanted to tell you that I don't think Jeff went home, I think he's still at the school. He doesn't _want_ to go home because of his dad. He's all alone and you _don't care_."

Jay blinked in a bovine manner. Adam stomped into his sneakers. Realizing that Adam was about to walk down the hill in the dark, Jay finally broke out of his stupor, "Baby, don't do this. At least let me drive you down to the school."

"And why would I do that?" Adam asked, his arms crossed over his chest.

"Because some psycho rapist could attack you. Baby, just let me do this. Please." Jay pleaded.

Adam frowned. He zipped up the front of his jacket and lit another smoke. "You made your intentions very clear, Jay. Go rot in hell." Jay continued to shout out the still-open door that he was scared for him. "I'll take my chances."

Jay had little choice but to watch as Adam stuffed his hands into his pockets and slowly made his way down the hill. He wanted to get out of the car and follow the taller blond, but he had a feeling that that wouldn't be appreciated. So instead, he stifled his fear and dressed himself, keeping Adam in the corner of his vision until he was finally out of sight. Once dressed, he moved into the front seat and drove away.

* * *

Adam raced down the abandoned hallways of the school. The front door of the school was locked after hours, but Coach always left the back door to the locker room unlocked. There wasn't anything to steal in there, but that wasn't the reason he kept it unlocked. There were a few homeless students at the school, all over the age of eighteen, who would use the dorms in the east wing to sleep in unbeknownst to Principal McMahon.

The school had used to be a boarding school, until the new principal came in and the town population multiplied nearly tenfold. Now, with nearly 30,000 residents and 3,000 students at their school alone, the dorms weren't big enough to house all of the students. But Adam knew that, every once in a while, Jeff would sleep in the dorms when his brother wasn't home and his Dad was on a drinking binge. It made him feel safe.

He raced across the school, knowing exactly where the dorms were. He stopped outside of the office and picked up the rusty old key, before he took the main staircase up to the floor where they were housed. When he reached the correct floor, he was met by an old fire-door. Once it was unlocked, he slid inside and was barely able to contain a shiver. The heat wasn't on, it would seem. But why would it be? Nobody was supposed to be up here.

It didn't take him long to find Jeff. The light was still on, and the multi-color hair boy lay on one of the beds, his hair fanned out over his shoulders. His eyes were closed and his earbuds were stuffed in his ears. He was still dressed in the outfit that he had worn to school that day, and Adam correctly assumed that it would be the same outfit he would wear tomorrow. It didn't smell or anything, but if he had been sleeping there all week, he could only wash so often.

Jeff's eyes were closed, but he was mumbling words that clued Adam in to the fact that he was awake. In fact, he was talking about Adam. More specifically, a drawing that he had of Adam in his sketch book. But Adam knew that his sketch book would be downstairs in his locker, for fear that someone would try and steal it. Jeff was always paranoid like that. It was kind of adorable, in a friend-to-friend kind of way.

"Jeff," Adam crooned softly. He walked into Jeff's field of vision, knowing that the smaller blond couldn't hear him. "Jeff, you in there buddy?"

Jeff looked like he had just had a heart attack. "Holy…" Jeff chirped, holding his chest with one hand as he yanked his earbuds out with the other, hiding his I-Pod under the pillow.

"What were you listening to?" Adam asked shyly. He sat on the bottom of the bed, watching, confused, as Jeff slid back.

"Nothing." Jeff lied; his eyes wide like a deer in the headlights.

"It doesn't seem like nothing. Because, see, if it was _nothing_, you wouldn't have tried to hide it like that."

Jeff swallowed hard, trying to look everywhere other than Adam's handsome face. "Why are you here, Adam?"

Adam blinked, silent for a moment. And then, "I was worried about you."

Jeff chuckled blandly. "Worried about me? As if. Someone as perfect as you would never be worried about some idiot like me." Jeff replied darkly.

But Adam wasn't convinced. "And then, of course, there was this too…" and then, he closed the distance between them and kissed him.


	4. What's In A Name?

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone.  
**Rated:** M  
**Warning(s):** AU, Slash, Threesome, Teacher/Student, BDSM, pain kink, domestic violence, etc.

* * *

Jeff was the first one to break the kiss. His heart hammered a wild rhythm in his chest, and he was unable to tame it despite his frantic attempts to 'breath in through his nose, out through his mouth'. Adam watched it all with an amused twinkle in his eye, not necessarily enjoying Jeff's misery so much as pondering his own choice in boyfriend. If Jeff could make him feel this wonderful with only a kiss… his imagination started to wander and he flushed.

"What the hell was that?" Jeff asked breathlessly. His face was pleasantly flushed as well.

"Why, Jeff, I think that it's called a 'kiss'. You haven't heard of it?" Adam teased.

"I've heard of it, but…" he trailed off, his tongue tripping his words. "I don't understand. You have a boyfriend."

"Yes, that I do." Adam didn't seem too concerned about said boyfriend as he swung one thin leg over Jeff's hips, setting his ass down directly on top of Jeff's awakening erection. "And I'll tell you he certainly doesn't kiss like that."

"Oh, God. If Jay finds out about this, he'll _kill_ me." Jeff moaned. Still, Adam didn't seem convinced. Even after three rounds with Jay earlier, he was unsatisfied. And he'd seen Jeff in the locker room. The boy was a monster.

"C'mon, Jeff." Adam flicked the buttons of his shirt open, revealing a broad chest landmarked with a colorful tattoo over his shoulder. "Don't be shy now. I know that you want this. I know that you want me."

Jeff was about to voice his protest, but was unable to find his voice as Adam leaned down and connected their lips in yet another kiss. This time around, Jeff was much more responsive. Bucking his hips up to meet Adam's grinding pelvis, his hardening cock teased the crack of Adam's ass through the material of their pants. But that obstacle was about to be taken out of the equation. Not bothering to break the kiss, Adam raised his hips and his pants flew off.

Now, Jeff was a bit more difficult. Adam had attached himself to the younger teen for dear life and didn't seem willing to release him, so Jeff rolled them around so that Adam's back was to the bed and he took off his pants, throwing them in the same direction as Adam's. He went to prepare Adam, not wanting to hurt him, when he realized, a little disdainfully, that Adam was already stretched and slick – like he had been fucked recently.

"Something the matter, Jeff?" Adam stared at him, his hazel eyes wide and innocent.

"You've already been with him tonight, haven't you?" It wasn't really a question, so much as a statement. Both knew it was true without any confirmations being uttered aloud.

"And what the fuck do you care if I have? It's not like you love me or expect me to love you, right? This is just a quick, cheap fuck. Life will go back to normal tomorrow." Adam said.

If heartbreak was lethal, Jeff would have been crippled. "Is that what you really think?"

"I know that if you don't get a move on soon, I'll march out of here and find someone who _will_ take care of business. No questions asked." Adam hissed.

Tears bristled in Jeff's eyes, but it was hard for Adam to see them. "You have no idea what you're doing to me."

"Is that a 'no', then?" Adam asked, one eyebrow raised.

In answer, Jeff shoved all the way into Adam, not stopping until his balls slapped against the cheerleader's perfect ass. It was impossible to ignore the way that Adam's channel was still slick with Jay's essence, and that, combined with the array of bite marks and scratches on Adam's skin – undoubtedly caused by Jay – nearly broke his heart. Adam was his friend. He never thought his friend would do this to him.

Adam's boyfriend was the head of the football team and Adam was the head cheerleader. It was a match made in heaven. And Jeff knew that, even if Adam cheated on Jay, Jay wouldn't be mad at Adam. He could _never_ be mad at his perfect treasure. No – it would be Jeff that he would hunt down. Jeff would be easy prey, because he was a loner that spent most of his day in the art department. He was weak and defenseless.

He made fast work of Adam anyhow, not even bothering to take care of himself. Adam was all that mattered. If this was the only chance he would get to service the blond, then he intended to do it correctly. He set a fast pace, hammering the head of his cock into Adam's prostate, while fondling the base of his cock – which seemed to be the most sensitive – his hand hidden in a nest of blond curls. Within minutes, Adam met a powerful orgasm.

"Fuck!" Adam screamed as he came. It wasn't Jeff's name or any of that other sappy nonsense. No, it was totally detached. Jeff doubted Adam even cared that he was there at all.

Jeff pulled out, hardly even hard anymore. He hadn't cum and he didn't think that he would anytime soon. "Was that the right answer?" He asked meekly, unable to raise his eyes and look at Adam's pretty face.

"It was the perfect answer." Adam said, before he rose off the bed and dressed himself. Without another word, he left Jeff alone in the room to wallow in his own misery.

* * *

"What the fuck is the meaning of this?" First thing the next morning, Phil was in Chris' room, slamming his boyfriend's expulsion form down on his desk. "Are you _trying_ to get me killed?"

Chris only continued to sip his coffee, a nonchalant look on his face. Finally, he set the cup down. "Listen, kid. What this 'boyfriend' of yours did to your face is serious stuff. He deserved to be expelled."

"You don't understand! You don't understand what you've done!" Phil continued to rant, stroking his swollen lip worriedly. Chris could see the neat line of fresh stitches in place of his lip ring.

"Are you afraid of him, Phil?" Chris asked, suddenly serious.

Phil whirled on him, his eyes filled with fury. "How could you even ask something like that?"

"Because I need to know. Are you, or are you not, afraid of your boyfriend?"

Instead of answering, Phil changed the subject. "How is this even your concern, anyhow? You don't care about me. You haven't cared that I've repeated your class three years running. You think I'm _trash_."

Chris shook his head. "I never said that."

Phil shrugged. "You don't have to _say_ it. I'm perceptive enough to see it in your eyes."

Chris rolled this way and that in his swivel chair, before making a bridge with his fingers. "Listen, kid. I may not like you, but I respect you enough to think you're a little bit better than trash."

"You think that I'm disgusting." Phil continued on, almost as if he hadn't heard him. "You look at these stitches and think that I _let_ him do this to me. You think that I'm a weak, miserable fool. You think I'm trash."

"Are you projecting, Phil?" Chris asked. "Are you making me, into yourself?"

Chris could see it written clearly in the boy's eyes, almost like Phil claimed to see his own perception of Chris written clearly there as well. Phil saw himself as trash. He saw himself as weak. Every time that he looked into the mirror and saw those stitches, he made himself sick. And Chris knew why. He wasn't defending himself, almost like he _couldn't_ defend himself. Whoever his oppressor was, they were much too strong for Phil to handle alone.

Phil was disgusted with himself because he couldn't handle the mess that he had gotten himself into. And, whether he wanted to admit it or not, he was terrified of what would happen next. The bloody face was a sign. His boyfriend's actions were escalating, and without the proper precautions, he could take it upon himself to kill Phil. And something in Chris' chest lurched at that idea. Something a wee bit stronger than teacher-like affection.

"I'm going to ask you one more time, Phil. If you don't answer me, we'll drop the matter entirely. But if you do answer me, I can help you get rid of him." Chris said. "Now, what's his name?"

Phil swallowed hard. There was nervous tension in his body, and for a minute, Chris thought that he would just run out of the room and never return. But then, in a weak voice, he muttered, "Brock Lesnar".

And they were one step closer to the fateful football game.


	5. Truthful

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone.  
**Rated:** M  
**Warning(s):** AU, Slash, Threesome, Teacher/Student, BDSM, Pain Kink, Domestic Violence, etc.

* * *

Phil sat in the corner of Chris' classroom, where he had resided since their fateful conversation that morning. Chris had been forced to take the information that Phil had shared with him down to the main office, and shortly after the start of first period, Brock was called down and had been handed his dismissal form. Phil, however, was clearly unimpressed. Still afraid that Brock was lurking somewhere on the territory, waiting for him, Chris had consulted with Mr. McMahon and received approval for him to keep him in his classroom for the rest of the day.

It was now lunchtime. Serena had come by with a lunch that she had bought for him herself, and while Phil had thanked her with a small, albeit distant smile, he had yet to touch it. He was more interested in his novel. Occasionally, Chris would watch him out of the corner of his eye. He was a little worried about him, sure – wouldn't anyone be worried about their student in circumstances such as these? But he had classes to teach, papers to mark, reports to finalize… eventually, Phil had fallen by the wayside. Until the start of lunch, that is.

Rising out of his chair, hands clasped behind his back, he walked over to Phil's desk. The room was set up on multiple levels, with the chairs turned in a sort of semi-circle pattern. Phil sat in the seat all the way in the corner, his legs drawn in to his chest and his book resting on his knees. His olivine eyes carefully analyzed the page, before he turned it slowly, scanning every word before he started to read once more. It was so careful, so methodical; Chris almost had to admire it. He had never seen this side of Phil before.

"I can feel you staring at me, you know." Phil raised his head and turned to face his teacher, sliding into what looked to be a more comfortable position. "Didn't your mother ever teach you it's not polite to stare?"

"My mother died when I was little. And my father, well, he didn't care whether I stared at people or not. In fact, I'd almost say he encouraged it." Chris trailed off fondly, obviously not caring what else Phil had to say on the matter.

Phil rolled his eyes. "Whatever. Just tell me what you want. Haven't you already screwed my life over enough?" Phil turned back to his book, only to have it snatched out of his hands. "What the hell?"

"Didn't _your_ mother ever tell you that it's not polite to ignore someone while they're trying to talk to you?" Chris asked.

Phil scowled. He reached for his book, but Chris held it out of his grasp. "Fuck you, bastard."

"Don't you wish, kid." Chris bit back. "If you really must know why I'm here, tell me why you haven't eaten your lunch."

"What are you, my mother?" Phil asked. "I haven't eaten it because I don't _want_ to eat it."

Chris tossed the book onto one of the tables on the lower level. He stuffed his hands into his pockets. "I highly doubt that. See, I know you. You eat like the world is gonna end tomorrow. So this," he motioned to the untouched lunch, "isn't normal."

Phil was silent for a few seconds. For most of the time, Chris wondered if he would even speak at all. But then, much to Chris' surprise, when Phil tilted his head back so that their eyes met again, his were brimming with tears. After a moment, the tears overflowed and spilled down his cheeks in uncontrollable torrents. He sucked in a harsh breath, his heart fluttering in his chest. It should be so easy to come clean. It should be. But then, in theory, it should be easy to remove a splinter. It wasn't easy.

Phil worried the stitches in his lip again, which, in turn, caused Chris to worry that one of them would suddenly burst and he would have to run and get towels from the boy's bathroom down the hall. Thankfully, Phil quit before that could happen. Instead, Phil raised a hand and circled his fingers around his eye socket. It was a bit darker than the other. Chris wondered if the fading bruise around Phil's eye was caused by Brock. It wasn't like he would have asked, but it swirled around in his mind for a while.

"Why did you come and find me?" Phil asked. "Why did you come and find me, when I don't mean anything to you?"

"Who said you don't mean anything to me? You're one of my students. I care about all of my students." Chris countered.

"That's not what I meant." Phil finished sadly.

Chris shrugged. "Okay, then. Fine. What do you mean?"

Phil chose to ignore him. He stared down at his book, wishing that he had it back. "How am I supposed to get home if Brock is still here? He knows where I live – my family, my _sister_… none of them are safe."

"Okay. If you want, after school today, I can take you down to the police station and you can fill out a police report. And then I'll take you home, and personally make sure that he isn't there. Okay?" He asked.

Phil raised an eyebrow, his teeth grazing over the stitches. "You mean it?"

"Yeah, I mean it." Chris nodded.

Why did he save Phil? The answer seemed so simple. He was his student, and he cared about his students – even if they were as annoying as Phillip Jack Brooks. But now, as he stared at him, he realized that that wasn't the case. He didn't know what the truth of the matter was, but he did know that there was some sort of connection between them. He stared into Phil's eyes, feeling some sort of twist in his chest. What it was, he didn't know. But he was damned sure that he would find out.

* * *

"You motherfucker! What the fuck did you do to him?" Jay screamed, tackling the artist to the ground with a messy spear. Oil paints and pastels smeared all over the dewy grass and Jeff's pristine white shirt, but Jeff didn't make a sound.

"Jay! What the hell do you think that you're doing? Jay, take your hands off of him!" Adam was close behind him, but not close enough to catch him before he took hold of Jeff and started to beat his head with his fists, his art supplies, his folders… anything he could reach.

"Did you fuck him? Did you enjoy it? I hope you did, because you're never gonna do it again!" Jay slapped him across the face, watching as Jeff's head lolled to the side, his neck straining painfully.

"Jay!" Adam's hands pried at Jay's shoulders, but Jay shoved him off. The force of it sent him into the mud, his elbow catching on a rock and drawing blood. "Shit, Jay! You're gonna fucking kill him!"

"Do I look like I care? He touched what doesn't belong to him! He needs to learn his place!" Jay said.

"Stop it. Please, oh fuck. That _hurts_. Stop it!" Jeff tried to thrust him off, but Jay was heavier and more skilled in hand-to-hand combat.

Jay took him by the hair and started to hit his head against the grass. It wasn't a very effective fighting move, but it was enough to disorient him momentarily. However, Jeff made a miraculous comeback and managed to hook his legs around Jay's waist, flipping them over and sending them in a snowball roll down the hill. Jeff's neck knocked against the ground in an unhealthy manner, while Jay dug his nails into Jeff's skin, taking the brunt of every hit on his back. He absorbed them all without a care.

Adam let out a startled gasp as he watched them start to roll down the hill, picking up speed as they catapulted toward the cheerleaders. Adam was still in his uniform – he had just changed when Jay had come to him and asked him for what had happened the night before. So, Adam had told him the truth. Or, most of the truth at least. Jay hadn't given him a chance to finish before he stormed out, hell-bent on killing the Enigma. And that didn't sit well with Adam, because he was rather fond of the smaller blond.

Even when they stopped rolling, they were clawing at each other. "I'll fucking kill you, you bitch. I'll teach you to touch what's mine!"

"Jay!" Adam screamed. Finally, it broke through and Jay turned around.

"What?"

"it was my idea. Us fucking was _my_ idea."


	6. The Fight

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone.  
**Rated:** M  
**Warning(s):** AU, Slash, Threesome, Teacher/Student, BDSM, pain kink, domestic violence, etc.

* * *

Jay blinked as he took a minute to let the words sink in. He opened his hands and allowed Jeff's body to fall to the destroyed terrain with a small _thud_. "What?"

"You heard what I said, Jay." Adam sighed, putting his hands on his lithe hips. "Listen, it was a mistake, okay? We all make them. But it was _my_ mistake. I'm the one who backed him into a corner. You should blame me."

Jay's eye twitched, before he turned back to Jeff, glaring at the rainbow-haired teen. "Why would you do it, Adam? And with this little bitch of all people? Surely I'm a better lay than -,"

Adam looked away, rocking back and forth on his heels awkwardly. "Well…"

Jay's glare intensified. "Oh, so now you have a problem with how I am in bed, huh?"

Adam shrugged, the look on his face indifferent. "Quite frankly, I've _always_ had a problem with how you are in bed."

Jay's entire body twitched this time. "And what the hell is that supposed to mean?" He almost screamed in Adam's face. Adam, for the most part, remained remarkably composed. "Go on, tell me. I want to know."

"Are you sure? I'm not sure you can handle it." Adam raised an eyebrow, watching as Jay fought to maintain some semblance of control. Finally, he nodded. "Fine. You wanna know the truth? You're selfish in bed."

"S-Selfish? How the fuck am _I_ selfish? I treat you like a bloody _Queen_!" Jay's arms flapped wildly as he vented.

Adam scowled. "I'm _not_ a Queen."

"Well, you could've fooled me, because you're certainly acting like one now!" Jay countered.

Slowly, Jeff sat upright. He rubbed at the small of his back, already able to tell that there would be a bruise there tomorrow. But all thoughts of bruises and injuries soon went by the wayside as he watched the bitter argument between a couple that he had once viewed as 'perfect'. After all, wasn't it such a cliché to have the cheerleader head-over-heels for the football player? Right about now, however, they seemed the furthest thing from 'in love'.

Adam was the calmer of the two, not that Jeff expected it to be any different. Somewhere along the line, he had moved them around so that he now stood between Jay and Jeff – if Jay noticed the sudden change, he didn't comment on it. Instead, he continued to tear into Adam in a vicious verbal assault. Jeff didn't know how Adam could stay so stone-faced. Was it normal for them to have these kinds of arguments? Or was this just the tip of the iceberg?

No, this couldn't be normal for them. Jeff had seen them thousands of times in the hallways, holding hands and laughing. Or, occasionally, he had seen them out on the fields, Jay helping Adam to get a little extra flexibility 'practice' in. It was wrong to watch, he knew. He was a considerable distance away, so he couldn't see much anyhow, and he was certain that they couldn't see him. But whenever that happened, he felt a longing for that closeness.

But maybe, if they were going to get in arguments like these because of that closeness, it was best to keep a distance. While he knew that Jay would never raise a hand to hurt Adam, he could see the football player's body tremble as he forced his hands to remain at his sides. Right about now, it was sheer willpower that was keeping him calm. Adam, on the other hand, kept the emotion locked tightly in his voice. His posture remained neutral.

"… that little bitch needs to learn to keep his hands off of what belongs to _me_, and _you_," Jay glared at his boyfriend, who held his gaze steadily, "_you_ need to learn that you are _mine_, and I don't like to share."

Adam sighed. He was growing tired of this argument rather quickly. "I already know that I'm yours, Jay."

"Prove it, then." Jay hissed, his tone lethal. "Prove it and tell that punk-ass bitch _exactly_ what he means to you."

"What? No." For the first time, Adam started to tense.

Jay's eyes widened. He stole a look at Jeff, who looked absolutely crestfallen. It was like last night all over again. Only, this time, there were witnesses. "Oh, don't tell me you had him convinced you actually _liked_ him?"

"Adam?" Jeff asked weakly. He knew the truth, he didn't need to hear it again.

"That's enough, Jay." Adam forced out, his tone a little bit darker this time.

But Jay wasn't listening. "Of course you wouldn't tell him that this isn't the first time you've done this to me. Though I'm impressed that you have him convinced you're a better lay." Jay said. "First, there was Randy…"

Jeff's eyes widened. Adam's eyes narrowed. "Jay…"

"Then… oh, yes, it was your swimming coach Shawn…" Jay trailed. "_Shawn's_ boyfriend, Hunter… and then, of course, the double whammy – both Shawn _and_ Hunter in one go. I have to admit, that was pretty impressive."

"_Jay_…" Adam's hands twitched nervously, angrily.

"And then, along came a boy named Matt Hardy. Wait a second, that name sounds familiar… that's your _brother_, isn't it?" Jay teased, loving the look of dawning horror that spread on Jeff's face.

"You fucked my _brother_?" Jeff screamed, only to have Adam clamp a hand down on his mouth.

"Not so loud…" Adam warned. "And I didn't _fuck_ him. It was only a blow-job."

"That's not what the Facebook pictures said." Adam blushed a dark red, his eyes narrowed at his boyfriend. "It's no wonder they call you the school slut, baby. The only thing you _can_ do is embrace it."

Adam looked sincerely hurt by that, but didn't let it show for long. He steeled his face and offered in a clipped tone, "I have to get down to practice."

Disturbed as he was by finding out that Adam had been with his brother, he couldn't help but watch as the blond sashayed down the hill as fast as his legs could take him. He wanted, no, he _needed_ to be away from everyone. And even if Jay couldn't see how deeply betrayed Adam was by his hurtful words, Jeff could see it. He wouldn't let it show too clearly, but Jeff could see it plain as day. And it killed him inside.

He turned back to face Jay just in time to have the jock slam his boot into his stomach. Stars danced before the Enigma's eyes, and he had to suck in a large, gulping breath just to make the stars disappear. But Jay wasn't about to let up. Soon, it became easier just to let his stomach sink and the air to leave him. For several minutes, he danced on the brink of consciousness. Finally, Jay had mercy on him and let up.

"Don't get your hopes up too high, Hardy. I'd hate to see how far a man can fall from Seventh Heaven." Jay smirked. "And remember, it's always _my_ bed he crawls back into. You're just a notch on his bedpost."

"Those are strong words." Jeff told him plainly, his face a mask eerily similar to the one Adam was wearing. "And they say a lot about the man that keeps accepting him _back_ into his bed as well."

Jay obviously didn't understand him. "Just learn to keep your hands off of my property."

As he turned and started to walk away, Jeff shouted, "Adam isn't property! He's a man! Learn the difference!" But, at that point, Jay was too far away to hear him.

* * *

It was after school and Chris had taken Phil out to his car, tossing the boy's stuff into the backseat before making sure he was safely in the passenger side. The entire ride had been spent in absolute silence. Phil leaned his head against the window, studying the cars as they whirred by. More than once Chris felt the urge to ask him what he was thinking about, what he saw. He never acted on it.

It was only when they were halfway to the police station that Chris realized Phil was crying. The boy was being incredibly discreet about it. The tears rolled silently down his cheeks, and he didn't raise a hand to wipe them away. Instead, he allowed them to remain. For a second, Chris had the insane notion that _he_ wanted to be the one to wipe the kid's tears away. And then a much saner vision of his subsequent suspension came to him.

He shook it off and instead slid an arm around the back of Phil's seat, allowing his fingers to dance along Phil's shoulder on the other side. That was enough to pull the kid out of his stupor, and he turned to Chris, teary eyes wide with confusion. Chris offered him a weak smile, shrugged, and turned back to the road. Phil remained tense for only a minute, before he returned the smile softly, turned back to the window, and closed his eyes.


	7. The Order (A)

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone.  
**Rated:** M  
**Warning(s):** AU, Slash, Threesome, Teacher/Student, BDSM, pain kink, domestic violence, etc.

* * *

Chris wasn't sure how much time the meeting between Phil and Officer Anderson would take, and once it crossed into the second hour, he was thankful that he had brought some papers to grade. His class had recently completed a project on their own biological history, tracing one specific trait through four generations. In the report, they were to do research on the trait, and at the end, attach a diagram of their pedigree. It was messy, shoddy work. And they called themselves honor students…

He was halfway into his seventeenth paper, about ready to pull his hair out, when Phil finally emerged from the interrogation room. He looked a little worse for wear – sweat streaked down his face and his hair was in a complete state of disarray. Anderson led him over to the water dispenser and helped him fill one of the little Dixie cups, instructing him to sit down and drink. After he finished it, Phil looked a little bit better. He still looked a little sick, however.

"Are you his legal guardian?" Anderson asked, his face grim. It looked like the story that Phil had told him had aged him about a century or two. Chris started to stuff the work back into his bag.

"Oh, no. No, I'm not his legal guardian. I'm just…" he trailed off, not exactly sure what to say. It would be more than awkward to announce that he was the boy's teacher. "I'm just…" he trailed off again.

Phil finished for him, "He's a friend of the family. I called him as soon as Brock threatened me, and he was kind enough to offer to drive me to the station and wait for me. My mom revoked my car privileges and all."

Anderson nodded, easily accepting this as fact. "Okay, then. Well, he's all finished. He'll need to come back tomorrow to sign all of the official paperwork, if he still needs a ride."

Phil's face turned sour. "Of course I will." He rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, the movement shaky.

"What did you do this time, Phil?" Anderson asked, his arms crossed over his suit-clad chest.

"We got into a fight." The teen confessed, sulking. "I may have… said some things. She may have… cried."

Anderson frowned. "You should take better care of your mother, boy. God only gave you one." And then, "You're all that she has right now. Seriously, you ought to be kinder to her."

Phil didn't meet Anderson's eyes. "Yeah, of course. Whatever you say."

Finally, Anderson gave up. He turned to Chris. "You make sure this idiot gets home safe, okay? I won't have the poor dumbass dying on the way home 'cause he caused an accident or something."

Chris shot Phil a look, but the younger boy didn't return it. "Of course. There won't be any accidents here." He rose and shook Anderson's hand. "Thank you so much for everything."

"Not a problem. Don't mention it. The kid's like my son. If it was legal, I'd kill the bastard myself. But, its best to let the law handle him." Anderson laughed, before he waved to Phil and walked off.

Phil shot his teacher a rude look, before he stormed out of the precinct and made a beeline for his house, completely ignoring the car out in the parking lot. Chris rolled his eyes, dropping his bag off by the car (it wasn't like it would get stolen in the parking lot of the precinct, after all) and chasing after him. He was getting too old for this shit. Temperamental little boys weren't really his forte. But he still did it, not really knowing why. Maybe it was because Phil was different somehow…

Phil made it halfway down the street when Chris took hold of Phil's wrist and yanked him backward. The smaller boy stumbled back, falling into Chris' chest with a soft _oomph_. For a minute, he just stayed there. It was like he was frozen against his teacher, unable to move. Even after Chris released him, he still didn't move. And then, all of a sudden, he realized where he was and what he was doing. Quickly, he shoved off of his teacher and tried to make a run for it. Chris wouldn't let him.

The older man dragged him over to the nearest bench and forced him to take a seat. He collapsed in a haphazard heap, recoiling into himself as shockwaves of pain shot up and down his body. Real fear shone in his eyes, bright and clear, and Chris had to wonder if the boy actually thought he could hurt him after all this. He might not have liked Phil all that much, but he certainly didn't want to see the boy in pain. Especially after his little breakdown in the precinct.

"Why did you run from me, Phil?" Chris asked softly.

Phil's eyes flickered up. "I didn't run from you. Last time I checked, I wasn't running at all. I was walking."

Chris groaned, rolling his eyes. "Don't get smart with me, boy. Fine, you didn't _run_. Why did you _walk_ from me?"

Phil shrugged. "This is my mess. I told you that from the start. This is my mess and I should be the one to handle it. You've done your part. I know you don't want to associate with me anymore. It kills you to be near me and all that."

Chris frowned. "Okay, first of all – whether we like it or not, we're both in this together now. Second, and I think we've been through this before, it doesn't kill me to be near you."

"You can't stand me." Phil said, rolling his eyes.

"Don't speak unless you know what you're talking about." Chris said. "And I'm not about to abandon you."

"Why not?" Phil asked. "Everyone else has."

Chris frowned, crossing his arms over his chest. "Yeah, well, I'm not everyone, now am I? And I don't intend to leave you. And, really, there's not much you can say to change that." Chris said. "Now, c'mon. I have to drive you home."

* * *

"You think it's okay to just go around and fuck others as you please? You think that it's okay to cheat on me like I mean _nothing_?" Jay screamed at his boyfriend, not missing how the taller boy winced.

"Like I said before, I'm sorry. It's not like I can take it back or anything, but I'm sorry anyway. He's not as great a lay as you, Jay. Nobody is." Adam rambled, just spouting words to feed his boyfriend's ego.

"I thought you said that he was a better lay than me?" Jay hissed, not about to let up on that. He was pissed.

"He was." Adam mumbled underneath his breath. "Maybe if you weren't so damn selfish in bed -,"

Jay cut him off. "How am I selfish in bed? Tell me. I'm honestly dying to know. Tell me all about it, Adam. Tell me how I'm such an awful lover. C'mon now. You certainly weren't shy about it earlier."

"You wouldn't believe me, even if I told you." Adam said.

"What? Tell me." Jay enforced.

"Fine. You want to know the truth? Do you know how often I actually get off when you fuck me? Maybe once or twice. We go an average of five times in one night, Jay. _That's_ how you're selfish in bed."

Jay's face crumbled, realizing that what Adam had said was absolutely true. When they were in the car, he hadn't even been concerned about Adam's needs, only his own. "Addy…"

"And, you want to know what else really gets me?" Adam choked out, looking like he was on the verge of tears. "You called me a 'slut' in front of Jeff. You _know_ how much I hate that word!" Adam bitched.

"I know baby, I know… I shouldn't have done that." Jay tried, but it didn't work.

"And then, you had to run down the list of every fucking mistake that I ever made. The list was never ending. You made me look like an ass, Jay. And that really hurt. If you really loved me, you wouldn't do that."

Jay took hold of his hands, turning his torso and forcing him to look into his eyes. "I _do_ love you, baby. I do."

Adam cocked his head to the side, looking uncertain. "Do you?"


	8. The Order (B)

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone.  
**Rated:** M  
**Warning(s):** AU, Slash, Threesome, Teacher/Student, BDSM, pain kink, domestic violence, etc.

* * *

"What the hell kind of question is that? I already said that I love you. What more do you want? Do you want me to climb onto the school's roof and fucking shout it so that everyone can hear? Do you want me to get a tattoo of your name?" Jay hissed.

All of a sudden, Adam burst into tears. They poured down his cheeks in uneven waves, and no matter how hard he tried; he was unable to control them. With a small, startled sort of sound, he tried to wipe them away. However, the tears were faster. Eventually, he just let them fall. Jay could only stare as they mapped a familiar course down Adam's rosy cheeks, coating his ivory skin and making him look like a broken, aching angel. He just wanted to take him in his arms and hold him.

Adam tried to force out words, but it was difficult to form them around the choking sobs that were stuck in his throat. Jay felt his heart break as the blond bowed his head, fluffy hair falling down in front of his face. Without wasting another minute, he closed the distance between the two of them and scooped Adam into his arms. At first, the taller blond tried to fight it. However, he soon realized that that was useless and calmed down, sagging into Jay's chest and sobbing into his boyfriend's chest.

"I'm sorry, baby. I didn't mean to go off on you like that." Jay whispered, stroking Adam's soft hair as he rocked them back and forth soothingly. "I just… Damn it, I don't know. Just _please_… _please_ stop crying."

"I-I'm n-not c-crying." Adam stuttered – he was proved a hypocrite seconds later when he sobbed into Jay's chest.

"Oh, yeah? Then why is my shirt all wet?" Jay asked. He continued to mutter sweet nothings to his boyfriend.

At first, Adam didn't say anything. He simply sniffled and clenched his fists around Jay's shirt. "I d-don't… I don't know. Maybe y-you're sweating o-or s-something."

Jay kissed his forehead, drawing him in closer and clutching him into his chest. "Calm down, sweetie. I don't want you to hyperventilate on me. Just take a deep breath and close your eyes. I'm not going anywhere."

"I-I'm… I'm not… I just… I just want to hear you say _it_." Adam said.

"What? You want to hear me say 'I love you'?" Adam nodded. "I love you, baby. Honestly."

"Really?" Adam peered over his lashes, hopeful.

"Yeah, baby. Really." Jay kissed the tears away from his boyfriend's cheeks, pulling him just a little bit closer. "Do you feel better now?" He asked, noticing the tears drying on his cheeks.

Adam nodded, drained of absolutely all energy. He bit down on the inside of his mouth, looking at his boyfriend sheepishly. Normally, they would have tried for another round or two. Their average was four or five rounds per night, after all. But after only two, Adam was almost certain that, if he tried, he wouldn't be able to move. Jay got the hint. Without a word, he stretched Adam's lithe body out and slid him underneath the blankets on his Queen-sized bed.

Adam smiled at him, nuzzling into Jay's chest and allowing his eyes to slide closed. His cheeks were still soaked with his tears, but now that Jay had told him the truth, he had calmed down considerably. Jay snaked an arm around his waist, pulling him in just a wee bit closer. He wanted to say something comforting to his love, but he didn't exactly know what to say. What could you say when your lover of two years doubted your love for them? What words could be said to convince them otherwise?

"You know what, Jay-Jay?" Adam said, looking up at him through half-lidded eyes.

"What is it, Addy?" Jay asked, stroking his cheek gently. He wanted him as calm as possible.

Adam looked up, smiling at his lover sweetly. He kissed Jay's lips, before settling down on the pillow and closing his eyes. "I love you too." He whispered, before falling asleep.

* * *

Jeff thrust into Adam's tight channel, pinning his thin wrists to the bed as he made quick work of the blond's body. Adam had been quite clear about what he wanted. Instant gratification. That was all Jeff was to him. A quick fuck. He had all of the love that he needed with Jay. But still, Jeff couldn't help but wonder, if he was that in love with Jay, why was he in bed with him? Maybe Jay really _was_ boring in bed. His thrusts slowed as he contemplated this, frustrating the lithe blond beneath him.

"What are you doing up there, Jeff? Planning out your grocery list? C'mon, I need _more_…" Adam moaned, thrusting his hips up to meet Jeff's. He clenched down, drawing Jeff further inside of him.

"Why are you here with me? Why here, when you could be out with Jay?" Jeff asked, his thrusts stilling.

Adam stared up at him. "Maybe I don't want to be with Jay. Maybe I want to be with you. Ever think of that?"

"Did you want to be with my brother, too? Or Shawn? Hunter? _Randy?_" Jeff could feel his heart beat start to increase. He felt sick, thinking that Adam – his precious, precious Adam – had been with his own _brother_.

"Let's not think about that, baby. I'll explain it all later. But right now…" he sank down, taking in more of Jeff's girth.

When he clenched down the second time, Jeff could no longer refuse him. He may have had a strong will, but nobody's will was _that_ strong. He started a fast and brutal pace, sinking into Adam's tight channel and hooking a hand around Adam's cock. He worked his hand up and down in fast strokes, barely acknowledging Adam's muttered warning before he came. He didn't even get off before Adam slid out of bed and started to dress. And just like that, he was gone.


	9. The Order (C)

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone.  
**Rated:** M  
**Warning(s):** AU, Slash, Threesome, Teacher/Student, BDSM, pain kink, domestic violence, etc.

* * *

The next day, Phil was late to school. He walked in halfway through class, absently slipping Chris the note and not bothering to look his teacher in the eye. Chris waved him off to his seat in the back row, not bothering to pay him much mind. It was clear that Phil was _attempting_ to let things return to normal, to the way that they were before Chris had found out about Brock Lesnar and the abuse that he had inflicted on the poor teen. And that was fine. Chris would just have to make his stand clearer.

He drew a quick, somewhat sloppy diagram on the board of what their latest assignment should look like. He made notes around each part, attempting to answer every one of their questions before they could ask them. Nevertheless, he was certain that one of his students would come up and ask him a dumb, obvious question. It always happened. And, more often than not, the answer _to_ said question was up on the board already. And the school board wondered why he hated his job…

Well, actually, hate was a bit too severe of a word. He didn't _hate_ his job, not necessarily. The students were, more often than not, wonderful and the pay was… decent. He just hated that, in an advanced genetics course, he spent most of his time sending kids to the bathroom or handing out Band-Aids because they got _paper cuts_. They were behind for their final already and school had only started a few weeks ago! It wasn't his fault, not necessarily, but that wasn't what reflected in their grades.

Once everyone was working, Chris took a seat at his desk. "Phil, could you come here for a minute? I need to talk to you."

Phil looked up; seeming surprised that Chris would deign to speak to him in the presence of other students. Finally, he made his way forward and stood in front of Chris' desk awkwardly. "Yes?"

"I would like for you to stay after class so that I can go over the material that you missed in your tardiness." Chris said, already making out the pass for Phil to miss his next period.

"Can't do that, sir." Phil snapped his gum obnoxiously. Chris looked up, eyes narrowed. "I have lunch next period."

Chris scoffed. "I would have thought you were smarter than that, boy. Bring your lunch up here." He handed him the pass.

"But -," Phil was cut off by Chris' icy stare. He didn't have the energy to return it with one of his own.

"I don't think you understand me, Phil. That wasn't an offer. That was an _order_. Now, unless you want me to tell Mr. McMahon that you forged a late pass to get into my classroom, I suggest you get your scrawny ass up here after class."

Phil swallowed hard, thinking about the fallout that Chris' nosiness could bring. "Fine. I just won't eat, then." Phil shrugged. "Can I go back to my seat now, _sir_?"

Chris waved him off, not even bothering to answer the boy's question. Phil stormed off, not even attracting the attention of his fellow classmates. Chris supposed that he didn't warrant their attention anymore. Every tantrum had been a been-there and done-that situation. He couldn't get a rise out of Chris anymore, and now that the tables were turned, he didn't know _what_ to do. And, worst of all, he didn't know how to trust… and that was all that Chris wanted from him.

* * *

Adam wasn't in school that day. His Ma had called in with some nonsense about him having the stomach virus, which Jay knew was a lie. Adam could concoct some crazy shit when he didn't want to come into school. However, just because his blond wasn't there didn't mean that Jay was entirely alone. At his lunch table, he was surrounded by friends and 'almost'-friends, his fellow football players: Randy, John, Alex, Kevin (who had been held back in twelfth for _many_ years), and Brock.

It was on a whim that Jeff decided today would be the day that he would bring about his death. Taking his lunch tray, he made a bee-line for the table of students easily twice his size. That didn't scare him. He had made up his mind on the day that Jay had pummeled him into the ground that that wouldn't be the last time he would see the bigger football player. They had unsettled business and, like it or not, Jeff wasn't about to let Jay get the upper hand a second time around – even if he was outnumbered.

"We need to talk." Jeff said, slamming the tray down at the table between Randy and John.

Randy shot him a quizzical look, before turning back to his lunch. Randy wasn't really one for fighting words, unless directly instigated. Kevin and Brock on the other hand… "And what does the rainbow-haired princess want to talk about?"

"Shut up!" Jeff whirled on him, his face contorted in anger. "Do I look like I'm in the mood to put up with your bull today?"

"I think you made the princess angry." Kevin laughed while Brock made cute, fussy baby noises.

"Maybe it's time for the princess to have a nap." Brock stuck his tongue out. "And maybe a diaper change."

Jeff reached across the table, using all of his energy to take hold of the bigger teen's collar and yank him up off his seat and sprawl his body out across the table. Brock's eyes widened in surprise, not having expected the 'rainbow-haired princess' to be so strong. Jeff was breathing heavy, using all of his concentration not to blacken one of Brock's eyes. Finally, he shoved him back into his seat. When he took a seat between Randy and John, nobody said a word.

"I'm here to talk about Adam." Jeff said evenly.

Jay's eyebrows floated into his hairline, but he was, relatively, silent.

"I don't like how we left our last conversation off, so let me make this a bit clearer. Adam isn't a toy. You can't just do what you want with him and then throw him away when he's not interesting anymore. Do you realize what you've done to him already?"

Jay sighed, drumming his fingers on the table absently. "You think you're one to talk? You were just a one-night stand to him. Who does he always come back to? Me. That one taste is all you're gonna get."

Jeff's eyes narrowed, not backing down from the perceived challenge. "Then why do I always get your sloppy seconds?"

Jay, who was drinking his milk, almost choked. "Excuse me?"

"I'm saying that Adam is in my bed before your cum can cool in his ass. What does that say about _you_?"

Before Jay could control himself, he had the scrawny artist by the neck and, seconds later, both were down on the floor. He started to beat a new pattern into Jeff's face, not caring for the way that the smaller teen squirmed beneath him. It was actually more than a little exciting, the feeling of another body moving beneath his in such a lively manner. Adam hadn't been so responsive in a long time… and then it dawned on Jay. He froze.

"It's… It's my fault. I'm the one who gave Adam the idea that it's okay to sleep around. It's my… fault." Jay trailed off, looking down at his hands shamefully. And then, he ran off.

* * *

It took less than half an hour to have the paperwork drawn up. Phil just had to sign a few release orders, approval for the precinct to receive medical records on any of the injuries that he received because of his ex-boyfriend, etc. Phil was embarrassed to do it, but Anderson guided him through with a steady hand. From watching the two of them together, Chris guessed that they were as close as a father and son would be, without the blood tie.

Chris was ashamed to admit it, but he _had_ nosed around in Phil's record during lunch. While Phil was doing his work, Chris discovered that Phil's father was a 'recovering' (he had been in and out of rehab for much of Phil's teenage life) alcoholic and his mother worked at the hospital. It made him wonder; with all the times Phil had been in and out of the hospital, why she had never noticed his injuries. She was his mother. She would have to find out sooner or later.

Once again, Phil came out of the office looking a little worse for wear. Anderson didn't say a word this time. He just shook Phil's hand, then Chris', and went back to his office. Chris watched him leave, before turning back to his most pleasurable burden. Phil was staring up at him, his eyes open for the first time. Whoever said that eyes were the window to the soul certainly wasn't kidding. Because when Chris looked into Phil's eyes, he saw a broken teen that just wanted someone, anyone, to love him.


	10. A Past Conversation

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone.  
**Rated:** M  
**Warning(s):** AU, Slash, Threesome, Teacher/Student, BDSM, pain kink, domestic violence, etc.

* * *

Adam thumbed his finger over the edge of a picture frame, pressing just hard enough to crease the skin as it floated around. His breath was slow and even, mimicking the sounds a man would make if he had fallen asleep. But he wasn't asleep, far from it. He sucked in a harsh breath, his hand trembling like mad. Even after all this time, it still killed him to look at that photo. And even as he felt himself wither away inside, he knew that, come tomorrow, he would pull it out of his bedside-table drawer and look at it again. It was like a train wreck. He couldn't look away.

Adam set the photo down at the end of the bed, tearing his eyes away and burying his face in his hands. The tears came unbidden, pouring down his cheeks in waves, but he made no attempt to stop them. His Ma told him that the tears were good. It was the only way for him to heal, she said. If he could move on, if he could get past this, then he would be able to move forward. At least, that was what she believed. She firmly believed that counseling would help him as well, but that had only made him feel worse. It drove him further from Jay, which he didn't want.

Judy suggested that maybe it would be best if he and Jay took a small… break. Adam wouldn't even hear it. He didn't know why she was so intent on seeing them separate. It wasn't as if it was Jay's fault that… and almost like magic, he felt his eyes draw back to the photo again. His heart constricted in his chest and suddenly it was like he couldn't breathe. It was maddening, the absolute lack of air in the room. Absently, he fumbled around, in search of his panic medication. He'd needed it ever since… well, ever since _that_. It was like a lifeline.

Taking out two pills, he swallowed them down and stretched his body out on the bed. He squeezed his eyes closed, feeling the medication pump through his veins. He could hear his Ma stalking about downstairs, probably entertaining guests. Maybe it was his boyfriend. Adam didn't know. He really wasn't in the mood to speak to him right now. He'd call him later, maybe tell him about Jeff and confess all the other sins he had committed. No, that wasn't true. Really, he wouldn't speak a word of it. He'd keep silent and just let things unfold naturally.

He fell back onto the bed and curled into a ball. It wasn't like he was sick or anything. He really could've gone into school today. But he didn't want to and he had easily convinced his Ma to let him stay home – it wasn't like she questioned any of his decisions as of late. He couldn't do it. He had to tell Jay, but at the same time, he couldn't. The fact that it had been almost six months, maybe even closer to seven, since it had happened… Jay would never be able to forgive him for keeping it secret so long. And he couldn't do that to himself, or to Jay.

So he just laid back, his eyes closed and his body cocooned from the horrors of the world. He didn't know how much more abuse he could take. Laughter floated up from the floor below, laughter between his mother and his boyfriend. Each crackle of laughter was like a stab wound in the heart. How could they be down there, laughing like they were, when he was so broken inside? It didn't make sense. No, that wasn't right. He couldn't make sense of it because he didn't _want_ to make sense of it. Adam squeezed his eyes closed. He needed to sleep.

* * *

Phil worried the inside of his mouth, staring at a problem that looked like absolute gibberish to him. It was his own fault for not paying attention in class, but that didn't make it any better. "Shit." He muttered under his breath.

Chris turned to him, looking at the boy with a skeptical eye. "What's the matter, Phil? That's a basic math equation." Chris said. He hadn't meant to sound nasty, but that didn't stop Phil from recoiling. "What's the matter?"

"I just… I just…" Phil started to crumple the edges of the paper noisily, his frustration mounting. He had a dark look in his eyes and within seconds, the pencil snapped between his fingers. "I just don't get it, that's all."

Chris set his own work down, fully devoting all of his attention to his wayward student. "Do you want me to help you, Phil?"

Phil looked uncertain. He refused to meet his teacher's eyes and, instead of responding, he simply swallowed hard and looked away.

Chris steeled his resolve, knowing that this wouldn't be easy. "Phil, you have to tell me if you want help. I can't read your mind."

Phil nodded slowly, unable to voice it aloud. "I… It's just… I've never had someone offer to help me, that's all." And then, as if reading Chris' mind, "In case you couldn't tell, my teachers don't like me that much."

Chris shot Phil a cursory look, before offering. "I like you just fine, Phil. Now, where are you getting hung up?"

* * *

_"Jay-Jay?"_ _Adam's soft, trembling voice floated over the line. He held the little white device in his hand, not even looking down at it. He couldn't look down at it. That would make all of this so much more real… "Jay-Jay? It's me, Adam. Listen, we need to talk."_

_Jay growled on the other end of the line, the bed creaking beneath him as he looked at the clock. "God, Adam, do you know what time it is? I need to be up early for football practice tomorrow! Can't this wait?"_

_Adam swallowed hard, wondering what it was that had possessed him to call his boyfriend in the first place. "Yeah, I guess it can. I'm sorry that I bothered you. It's just… I… I'm so scared, Jay-Jay…" he trailed off._

_Jay sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Well, you have me awake now. Out with it, blondie. What's scaring you so much?"_

_"I… I think that I'm… oh God…" Adam had worked himself to the point of throwing up, which he did in the middle of the conversation._

_Jay heard it. A wave of nausea washed over him as well. "Are you okay, Adam? You sound like you're sick."_

_Adam rinsed out his mouth and dabbed at the corners of his lips with a towel. "I am… I mean, I'm not… but I am. I don't know. I just… Jay… I'm so scared." Adam sobbed, sliding down so that his back was against the cabinets under the sink._

_"What are you scared of, Addy?" Jay really didn't have time for this. Couldn't this wait until the morning?_

_"This." Adam waved the little white device in the air, almost as if Jay could see it._

_It was so wonderfully terrifying; he didn't know what to do. He was so scared… he didn't even think that there were words to describe it. They had always used protection. Jay was finicky about it, with so many stories of STDs floating around the school. That, and Adam's reputation as the school slut certainly didn't help matters. But Adam didn't blame him. He knew how to make it feel wonderful, even with that thin barrier between them. And he always made sure that Adam got off first. It was perfect._

_Well, it was perfect, until Jay went off to football camp for one week and Adam started to get violently sick in class. It got so bad that the teacher's had to send him to the nurse's office to lay down and watch the class as it was televised for his benefit – the benefits of a private school with the limitless budget of one multimillionaire headmaster, Vince McMahon. That was when Adam had bought the little white device. Just in case. He just wanted something to either substantiate or eradicate his fears. In the end, they were substantiated._

_"What is this, Adam? You know that I can't see you through the phone. I'm not telepathic or some shit like that." Jay whispered, already falling back asleep._

_And then, Adam whispered two words that would change their relationship forever – "I'm pregnant" – that was, if he had been awake to hear it._


	11. One Week

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone.  
**Rated:** M  
**Warning(s):** AU, Slash, Threesome, Teacher/Student, BDSM, pain kink, domestic violence, etc.

* * *

Phil really didn't understand it. He didn't understand how someone – anyone, really – could turn their entire outlook on someone around so quickly. Just a few weeks ago, he had hated Chris, and the feeling had been mutual. But now, as he sat on that bench, listening to Chris rumble off instructions about how to solve the genetic equation, he couldn't help but feel some foreign twist in his belly. He didn't know what it was, but it certainly wasn't unpleasant. However, a tad unsettled by it, he forced it down and did not say a word about it.

Little did he know that Chris was feeling much the same thing from the opposite end of the bench. Leaning over, inhaling the sweet, musky scent of the teenage boy, it took all of the strength that he had in him to control himself. There would be serious, dangerous repercussions if he acted on those carnal instincts and just _caved_. He'd seen some of his fellow teachers travel down that road, had heard stories about it on the news… needless to say, it wasn't pretty. He couldn't risk his job for some carnal lust for a teenage boy. It just wasn't going to happen.

Chris drew away, knowing that, if he stayed there any longer, he would surely cave. "Does it make more sense now?"

Phil nodded. "Yeah, it does." He scribbled down a few notes onto his paper, successfully reaching the answer and feeling strangely… proud of himself. He hadn't felt like that in a long time. "…Thank you."

"You don't have to thank me, Phil. It's my job to help you. Now, I want you to start on the next problem and let me check it to make sure that you did it correctly, okay?" Chris leveled him with a stare, waiting for Phil to agree.

Phil shrugged. It wasn't like he had that much of a choice, or anywhere else to go for that matter. "Okay."

Phil worked diligently on the next problem, not wanting to lose the feeling of pride that he had gotten when he successfully completed the first problem. But it was something else as well. He found that he did not want to let Chris down. There was something in the way that Chris looked at him… something that he did not quite understand. But he had the strangest inkling that the same look had been reflected in his own eyes when he had watched his teacher gnaw on the end of his pen, explaining the method used to solve the equation.

"You finished?" Chris asked, once again peeling his eyes away from the stack of papers that he was grading. When Phil nodded, he said, "Let me have a look."

Phil worried his bottom lip, waiting for Chris' approval. "How is it?"

"Correct." Chris offered, the smallest of smiles crinkling across his face. "Very nice work, Phil."

"Thank you, sir." In return, Phil offered a weak smile of his own.

Chris shot him a look out of the corner of his eye. "Like I said Phil, you don't have to thank me. It's my job to help you to understand the material and to keep you on track with the rest of the class. I wouldn't be a very good teacher if I let you fall behind."

Phil's smile faltered a little bit. Before he even realized what he was asking, he said, "Is that the only reason?"

Chris' eyes hazed over, that carnal lust returning. The boy was so vulnerable right then, and in desperate need of Chris' approval. Chris barely had the strength to curb his wicked tongue. "…And because you asked so nicely."

Phil tried his best to not look disheartened by that answer. He tried to stifle the hurt by remembering that Chris was more than ten years older than him, most likely with a family (he never talked about them, and there were no pictures on his desk), countless friends (he sat alone in the teacher's lounge), and an entire zoo's worth of pets (he'd been terrified of dogs ever since one bit him as a child). What would he want with a broken high school kid who always fell a little too hard, a little too fast, and trusted a little too easily?

The answer? Not a thing. Phil shook his head, not wanting to think about the matter any further. He didn't want to pain himself with the specifics of just how broken and destroyed he was. Instead, he folded up his paper and slipped it into his binder, stuffing that into his backpack. At first, Chris didn't seem to notice him moving about. In fact, he only really acknowledged it when Phil slung the backpack over his shoulder and started to walk off in the direction of his house. Chris knew that it was Phil's house because he had driven there so many times.

"And where do you think you're going?" He asked.

Phil threw him a casual look over his shoulder, not bothering to stop. "I'm walking home, what does it look like I'm doing?"

"Don't be a smartass, Phil." Chris chastised. He didn't mean it to sound cruel, but it did. "Look, I don't mean to sound rude, I really don't. But your neighborhood is a wee bit too dangerous to just go walking around."

Phil stared at him unblinking. "I don't want to be your charity case, Mr. Irvine."

Chris sighed. Why did it always seem like, when he somehow let the boy down, they always went back to square one? "How many times do I have to tell you, Phil? You're _not_ my 'charity case'. I _want_ to help you. But I can't help you if you don't want to help yourself."

Phil's eyes narrowed and he crossed his arms over his thin chest. Chris noticed the slightest hint of a fresh tattoo on his upper arm. It looked like the Pepsi logo. "What makes you think that I don't want to help myself?"

"Because you're making this ten times harder than it has to be…" Chris trailed off, really not wanting to start an argument.

"_I'm_ the one that is making this more difficult?" Phil asked, eyes widening every so marginally. "Oh, that's real funny."

Chris bit down on his bottom lip hard enough to draw blood. "Would you fucking listen to me for ten seconds? I want to help you, damn it, but I can't do it unless you _ask_ for help! You have to be the one to make the first move, Phil."

The mixed connotation behind those words did not go unnoticed between the two individuals. Chris flushed, looking away. He was ashamed of himself – partly for not being able to control his emotions, but also, for allowing that emotion to show so clearly on his face. Phil felt his pulse start to race, that flight or fight reaction building in his belly and rising to his throat in the form of bile. But, in the end, he just couldn't do it. Fear won over and he took off, running as fast as his feet would take him, wanting to be as far from Chris Irvine as possible.

"I'm sorry." Chris whispered, turning back to look at Phil, only to find that his student had vanished from his sight.

* * *

Adam wandered downstairs, his body sluggish from his attempted-nap. It hadn't been the soothing rest that he had hoped for. For the entire forty-five minutes that he was out, he was plagued by frequent nightmares about what had happened. It had taken him awhile to figure out that it was the same dream on a loop, continuously floating in and out of his mind in an endless ring of torture. It had been that way for the past several weeks, and he had found it difficult to obtain any sleep. That was why he had been prescribed sleeping medication.

The sleeping pills didn't really help where the nightmares were concerned. That was what the panic medication was for – and even that didn't take them away. The panic medication simply reduced the risk of a full-blown, life-threatening panic attack. The sleeping pills simply knocked him out for the full eight hours he needed to function like a normal human being. Without them, he would no doubt be flunking out of most of his classes, and he definitely wouldn't be able to continue in his role as head cheerleader. No, it just wouldn't happen.

Unfortunately, he could only take one pill every twenty-four hours – and he wasn't due to take another one until around nine-thirty. As a result, he had woken up several times during his short, attempted nap, sometimes feeling as if a panic attack was about to grip him. Thankfully, none did. Now, he wandered downstairs and into the kitchen, where his Ma and his boyfriend were still conversing at the kitchen table. Judy was absolutely _enthralled_ with Jay, even after what happened. She didn't know that Adam had been… seeing others on the side.

"Oh, Adam, how nice of you to join us." Judy smiled over the rim of her coffee cup – she worked the night shift at the hospital alongside Mrs. Brooks, but strangely, the two never spoke of each other. "Did you have a nice nap?"

Adam shrugged, his back turned to her so that she couldn't make out the haunted look on his face. "Not really." A pause, filled with uncomfortable, tense silence. "It just wasn't long enough, that's all. It's never long enough." He forced out a curt laugh.

"No, I suppose it is 'impossible' to get 'enough' sleep." Judy laughed right alongside her son, but her laugh was clipped as well.

Jay looked between them, obviously noting that there was something he was missing, but not about to step in and ask about it. "Adam," he addressed his boyfriend, "you weren't in school today. Are you feeling alright?"

"Right as rain. Just a little sore from cheerleading practice the other day, that's all." Adam nonchalantly tossed over his shoulder.

"Mmhmm…" Jay didn't sound like he believed a word of it. "So how come you weren't in school today?"

Adam's back tensed, but if anyone noticed, nobody made a comment on it. "I fell at practice. Ma wanted to get it x-rayed."

Jay's mouth fell into a frown. "How come I didn't hear about this 'fall'?"

Adam was about to answer, but Judy was quick to fill in for him. "We didn't think that we should bother you, dear. After all, it was just a minor tumble. He didn't hit his head or anything. There was a little swelling, so I had it checked out, just in case."

"And all tests came back negative?" Jay asked, concern lacing his tone.

Judy brushed it off. "Of course."

Adam took down a box of tea packets and fixed himself something to drink. After all, he might as well make himself comfortable if he was going to stay down here and look the part of dutiful boyfriend. He couldn't really put his finger on it, but something had been uncomfortably different about their relationship ever since 'that' had happened. The romantic nature was gone and replaced with something cold and unforgiving and Adam didn't know if he was ready to accept that the love was gone or not. He just didn't know.

Or maybe, just maybe, there had never been any love there at all. He vividly remembered how Jay had treated him in front of Jeff – how he had made him feel like absolute _trash_. What was the word that he had used for him? Slut. Adam wasn't a slut. He really wasn't. He was just… hurt. He needed someone that cared enough to come up and carefully glue all of his pieces back together, not caring if there were a few bumps, numerous scratches, and countless scars on his heart that would never _heal_. He wanted someone that loved him for being _him_.

Maybe Jay was that man for him. Or, like he had speculated earlier, maybe Jay was just using him for other purposes. Maybe it looked good in his social circle to have a hot, loose blond on your arm. Maybe he'd be like Brock, and pass him around like he was some sort of animal that just couldn't say 'no'… After all, he'd heard what Jay had said to Jeff. He'd heard that all he was to Jay was 'property'. And, to be quite honest, that killed him inside. Because his heart, body, and soul belonged to Jay… and he just wasn't sure if the feeling was reciprocated.

"You two make such a cute couple." Judy smiled at them, giggling at the way Adam flushed and Jay looked upon his prize proudly. Yes, they certainly did make quite the attractive couple.

"Ma…" Adam whined, "We're not _cute_."

Judy only giggled some more. "No, of course you're not. You're manly, rugged men. Manly, manly testosterone-fueled men."

"_Ma_…" Adam whined a little bit louder this time, burying his face in the crook of Jay's neck and reveling in the comforting scent that belonged to _his_ man and _his_ man alone.

Judy laughed as she rose out of her chair and went into the kitchen to get more coffee. When he was out of sight, Jay reached over, tangling his fingers in Adam's hair and drawing him in closer. "You don't get so offended when _I_ call you cute." He whispered.

"I'm not cute." Adam protested softly, but silently, was reveling in one of the few compliments he had received from Jay in a long time.

* * *

Matt opened the door to their apartment, flicking on the light switch and allowing a moment for all of the light to flood the room. Once it did, what he saw promptly caused him to drop his bags of groceries. "Oh God, Jeff!"

Jeff reclined against the wall next to the coat closet, blood dripping down his face from a freshly broken nose. The break was still fresh, but not fresh enough to set without having to break his nose again. There were tiny crescent-shaped cuts down his neck and across his shoulders, no doubt the imprint of nails biting into his flesh just a little bit too hard. His breathing was ragged and uneven, and when Matt fell to his knees in front of him and carefully turned his head, he saw a colorful bruise on his right temple. He had a concussion.

"Oh God, Jeff, _look at you_!" Matt was practically crying with frustration, trying to figure out what to fix first.

"Don't touch me." Jeff whispered, no real force behind his words.

Matt gingerly took Jeff's face in his hands, trying to find any other injuries. "Jeffy, who did this to you?"

"I said don't touch me!" Jeff repeated, a little more force behind his words.

But Matt wasn't listening to him. He continued to look Jeff over, pressing on bruises and inspecting cuts until Jeff could see black dots curbing the sides of his vision. Finally, in the distance, he heard, "I'm calling 911."

The last thing he realized before he passed out – one week until the big football game.


	12. An Uncomfortable Meeting With Brock

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone.  
**Rated:** M  
**Warning(s):** AU, Slash, Threesome, Teacher/Student, BDSM, pain kink, domestic violence, etc.

* * *

**The Next Day**

Adam was the only one to notice Jeff's absence in school the next day. The only reason he noticed was because of his abnormal absence come lunch time. Adam, who usually sat with his boyfriend and his fellow cohorts from the football team, had a perfect view of the table that Jeff frequented. Today, however, his seat was uninhabited. A few close friends of his, which included the likes of Trish Stratus and Kelly Kelly, seemed totally unaffected by his absence. To them, it must not have been an unusual occurrence. Adam just needed to pay more attention, it seemed.

With a sigh, Adam rested his head on his boyfriend's shoulder. The smallest ghost of a smile flitted across Jay's face, and with a stray hand, he toyed with some of Adam's fluffy hair. One of Jay's 'almost' friends (there was just something about the boy that he couldn't trust), Alex Riley, was shooting overly-friendly looks in Adam's direction. Jay was oblivious, but Adam most certainly was not. He offered the younger boy a cursory glance. He wasn't too bad, except for the fact that he was a tad overzealous. But Adam could work with that. He'd worked with worse.

Adam wasn't too interested in the conversations between the boys. Kevin, the resident skirt-chaser, was ranting on about his latest hook-up. John and Randy were dancing around each other, as per usual. You would have to be blind to not realize that they wanted each other naked... like, _now_. And Jay... well, he seemed to be listening to everyone's conversations and trying to feign interest in all of them. In reality, he was as bored as Adam was. But he was a little bit better at hiding it. Adam, rolling his eyes, finally pushed away from Jay and rose to his feet, stretching.

"Where you going, babe?" Jay asked distractedly. Now that his arm was free, he was fiddling with his pencil.

Adam shrugged, inclining his head toward the _A La Carte_ line. "I think I'm going to go buy a cookie. You want anything?"

"Nah." Jay shook his head, before turning to his friends. "Y'all want anything?" The general consensus was 'no'.

"Okay." Adam nodded, flashing a playful smile in the general direction of the table. And maybe, if he winked at Alex Riley, it wasn't exactly 'unintentional'. "I'll be back in a second. Try not to miss me too much."

Adam made his way over to the line, easily sliding in amidst the massive crowd of people. Now that he had broken away from the prying eyes of the table, he felt half-inclined to call Jeff and see what was going on. Hell, if he felt confident that he could sneak out of the cafeteria, he would check the dorms and see if Jeff was still holed up in the bunks. After all, he knew how unlikely it was for Jeff to return home. He was on awful terms with his father and his brother... well, after that conversation with Jay on the football field... he didn't think he'd be too fond of his brother either.

Adam was so wrapped up in his own head that he didn't pay much mind to the people around him. Normally, he was far-too in tune with the people around him. He considered it an awful side-effect of the torture that he had endured at the hands of Brock Lesnar, one of his boyfriend's closest friends. At the hands on Brock, he had experienced a cutting sort of betrayal by some of the people that he had held the closest, the likes of which he had never experienced before. He never wanted to relive that feeling of absolute _nothingness_. But it returned when a hand touched his shoulder.

"Adam..." the unmistakable voice of his former tormentor washed over him in a bone-chilling wave.

Adam pasted on a plastic smile, before turning around and saying, "Hello, Brock."

"I didn't see you in school yesterday. That's becoming quite a habit for you, isn't it? Not showing up when it's just too painful to roll out of bed." Brock flashed a crushing smile. "Have you told Jay yet?"

Adam refused to entertain his questions. "You know - it's kinda funny, Brock. One would think, after all that shit that you did to Phil, that you wouldn't be allowed without one-hundred feet of him - or did you convince him not to get a restraining order?"

"Why should I discuss my personal affairs with you?" Brock asked, arms crossed over his muscular chest.

"Why should _I_ discuss my personal affairs with _you_?" Adam countered, before turning around. It was almost his turn in line.

Suddenly, Brock's face was next to his cheek. He could feel the younger teen's stubble brush against his skin. "No matter how hard you try to forget about it, Adam... No matter how hard you try to hide from it... You can't erase the truth."

"A-And what is that?" Adam asked, barely able to keep his voice from trembling.

"That that baby wasn't Jay's."

Adam turned his neck sharply, away from Brock's face, away from the words that he didn't want to hear. He couldn't handle it, wasn't _ready_ to handle it. It was all too soon and the wounds were too fresh and Brock was just pouring _vinegar_ in them. "Next!"

Adam bought two M&M cookies and quickly made his way back over to the table, not wanting to be alone with that monster for a moment longer. He didn't trust him. He had good reason not to trust him. After everything that he had put him through, after everything that he had done to the unlucky lot that had come after him, he was lucky if he was able to trust anyone ever again. He slid down into the seat, pushing himself into Jay's arms. Jay let out a soft noise of surprise, but didn't hesitate to wrap his arm around his baby boy. Adam let out a soft mewl, burying his face in Jay's neck.

"You okay, baby?" Jay asked softly, placing a kiss on Adam's head to try and comfort him.

Adam swallowed back the tears and nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just fine."


	13. Drive On

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone.  
**Rated:** M  
**Warning(s):** AU, Slash, Threesome, Teacher/Student, BDSM, pain kink, domestic violence, etc.

* * *

When Brock Lesnar walked by the table, Adam further recoiled against Jay. This finally broke through Jay's obliviousness, and he slowly stood, gently pulling on Adam's arm. Adam came up without much of a fight. "C'mon, baby. Let's get out of here."

"And go where? It's the middle of lunch, baby." Adam pointed out. He cast a sidelong glance at Alex, the sultry look in his eyes promising that they would get together sooner rather than later. "Jay, are you even listening to me?"

"Yeah, I'm listening to you. I haven't answered you because I don't know. I just got the vibe that you wanted out of there, so I'm trying to make you more comfortable. That's all. I didn't know that that made me such a bad person." Jay snapped.

Adam flinched, noticeably recoiling at Jay's harsh tone. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to sound ungrateful, just..."

"And would you stop just... _accepting_ everything I say and bending like a fucking piece of paper! Have a backbone for once!" Jay scolded.

Emerald eyes lowered to the floor. "I didn't know that that was what you thought I was doing. I'm sorry if that's the way that it came across, I..." he trailed off, biting his lip. He really didn't want to have a fight with Jay right now.

Realizing that he was simply doing exactly what Jay had asked him not to, Jay sighed. "C'mon. Let's just go."

Jay tugged gently on Adam's arm, but because Adam wasn't resisting, Adam almost stumbled forward. However, he quickly corrected himself and shuffled behind to catch up to his boyfriend. Jay was ranting - mostly to himself, but he occasionally would turn and ask Adam if he was listening to anything that he had to say. Naturally, Adam was doing his very best to ignore him, but he didn't let Jay know that. Usually, when Jay went off on his little tangents, it was best to just let him wear himself out. Sometimes (like now, for example) that took longer than Adam had to wait...

Before Adam realized it, they were outside of the school. Jay was heading down the front stairs now, taking them almost two at a time. Adam stumbled behind, trying not to injure himself keeping up. He half-expected a security officer to come out of nowhere and ask where they thought that they were going, tell them that it was still school hours, and promptly send them back inside. That never happened. Jay made it all the way to his car, unlocking it electronically and opening the door for Adam. Adam slid inside, trying not to flinch when Jay slammed the door after him.

After Jay climbed into the car, he started up the engine and turned on the heat. He leaned back on the seat, making no move to pull out of the parking lot. "Now, you wanna tell me what exactly was going on between you and Brock in there?"

"Me and Brock? What do you mean?" Adam decided to play dumb. It was the safest way to play the game right now - now that he was locked in the car with Jay. "I haven't talked to Brock in years. What makes you think that I saw him today?"

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe because you practically cut off all of the circulation in my arm when he passed by the table today. It's just a hunch."

Adam looked down, staring anywhere but at his boyfriend's face. "Yeah, well, it was a bad hunch."

Jay raised an eyebrow. "Or was it now? I don't think so. You see, if it really was such an awful hunch, you'd be able to look me in the eye right now."

As if to prove him wrong, Adam turned toward him and locked eyes with him. "I'm telling you the truth. I don't really have any reason to lie to you. Do _you_ think that I have a reason to lie to you?" Adam asked sincerely.

"I don't know... maybe it has something to do with a phone number sitting on your kitchen table. I saw it when I came over."

Adam remembered that card perfectly well. His mother had gotten it for him at the hospital. It was for a Mrs. Brooks, a child psychologist. "Yeah, there was a business card on the table. So what?"

"Why would you need to see a psychologist, Adam?"

* * *

_"I don't need to see a psychologist, Ma. I can get over it on my own." Adam stared at the card, preparing to tear it in half. He didn't understand why his mother always had to be so overdramatic. He had one little fainting spell - he was just fine._

_"Please, Adam..." Judy trailed off, looking over her beautifully frail son. He looked so sick, so breakable. "I just want you to be okay, baby. And after this, I'm fairly certain that you'll never be okay again. You say you can't talk to Jay -,"_

_"He didn't even want to know about the baby!" Adam interjected._

_"...And you can't talk to me -," Judy continued._

_"Because every time I try to talk to you, you stuff a psychologist down my throat!" Adam screamed._

_"I only want to help you!" Judy screamed right back. She was tired, so tired, and she could tell that Adam was tired too. "I only want what's best for you. You're my son and I love you - and if that means I have to force you into counseling, then that's what I'll do!"_

_"But Ma!" Adam tried to stand up for himself yet again, but Judy shot him down._

_"And that is the end of this discussion, young man!"_

* * *

"Why would I need to see a psychologist?" Adam reiterated Jay's earlier question. "It's because I lost something that was very important to me, and I don't know how to make up for that loss. There's something in me that's missing and I... I don't understand how to fix it."

Jay's eyes widened, realizing that he was finally channeling into some of Adam's deepest emotions - the emotions that he carefully protected behind a tall, impenetrable wall. "What did you lose?" Jay asked softly.

All of a sudden, those walls shot back up. "I can't tell you."

"Why not?" Jay asked, feeling suddenly and inexplicably put out.

"I just can't." Adam shrugged. "I don't really have an answer for it."

"Then that's not an answer."

Adam looked away, his attention focused out the window. "I want you to take me on a drive, Jay. Just drive and drive and drive... drive until we get lost, and the school is a pin prick in the distance, and we get lost... and then I want you to drive some more. Drive on forever."

Jay shook his head, unable to believe that Adam had closed off so fast. "Whatever."

That one word cut Adam to the quick. His Ma could ask him if he loved Jay as many times as she wanted - he would always give her the answer. Sometimes he did, sometimes he didn't. This was one of the times that he didn't. Jay just didn't understand when to let the matter die. Jay was too hot-heated, too instinctive, and while that could be attractive nine times out of ten, this was that one time. Adam found himself absolutely disgusted by the entire situation. He didn't even know why he had turned to Jay in the first place, why he had laid his head on his shoulder. Why had he ever trusted him?

It was a tricky situation that he found himself in. This was a man that he loved, that he once thought he would have a baby with. But then, Brock Lesnar had come in and it had ruined everything. Adam had loved Jay from afar and Jay just didn't have the courage yet to bridge the gap with the pretty cheerleader, so Brock had come in and done it for him. He still bore the marks from where Brock had hit him a little too hard, a little too fast. After weeks of this 'violent' perusal, Adam finally caved in and allowed Brock to have him. Shortly thereafter, he had gotten with Jay. And he had wanted to tell him about Brock, but...

Three weeks into dating, Jay had been escorting Adam to class when they passed by Brock in the hallway. Jay had broken away and had made his way over to the man. The two had practically demolished each other's bodies in greeting, before delving into a long conversation that left all of them late to class. He had walked away laughing, totally missing the way Adam's face had lost all color. He looked as white as a sheet. Adam had refused Jay's offer to walk him the rest of the way and had avoided him for a week - if Jay wasn't so enamored by the cheerleader, it could have ended there.

Adam stared out the window, reveling in the awesome silence as Jay drove on, just like Adam requested. And Adam couldn't help but thinking - it _should_ have ended there.


	14. Lie to Me

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone.  
**Rated:** M  
**Warning(s):** AU, Slash, Threesome, Teacher/Student, BDSM, pain kink, domestic violence, etc.

* * *

Phil was home alone. He had told his mother that he had a migraine that morning and she had called the school to inform them that he wouldn't be in, before leaving his bottle of medication on his nightstand and leaving for work. He knew that she had to work - if she didn't, they wouldn't be able to maintain the level of life that they had now. However, he couldn't help but wish that she had stayed with him a little longer and at least _acted_ like she had the time to care. Of course, he didn't _actually_ have a migraine. He just couldn't face Chris today.

It had been a rather uneventful day. Serena had brought him his work for the day and he'd finished it all. Even Chris' work. He remembered the lesson that Chris had taught him, the one that he had taught him before the conversation had taken a turn for the worse, and that made the work that much easier. Once he had finished it, however, he sat staring at the pages for several moments. Silently, he was cursing himself for being so weak. He couldn't believe that he had taken the entire day off of school simply because he was afraid to see _one_ teacher. But it was too late to correct that now.

His phone started to ring. He looked at the caller ID, smiling when he saw that it was Serena. "Hello?"

_"Hey. I was just calling to check in and see how you were doing."_ Serena said. She might not have known about Phil's feelings for Chris, but she _did_ know that he didn't actually have a migraine.

"I'm doing fine. I finished all my homework - it was really easy. I'm actually kinda bored right now, trying to figure out what I want to do." Phil said. He leaned back in the dining room chair, putting his feet on the kitchen table.

_"You? Actually finished your homework? I never thought that I'd live to see the day."_ Serena teased.

Phil shrugged, knowing that she couldn't see it. "Yeah, well, I have to do it every once in awhile. I do want to graduate sometime soon."

A laugh trickled over the other end of the line. Then, for a second, there was absolute silence. Finally, _"Hey, do you know what time your Mom is coming home from work?"_

Phil looked at the clock. "Yeah, in an hour or two. Why?"

_"You think that I can come over? I need to tell you something important."_

"Sure." Phil took a piece of scratch paper, rolled it into a ball, and threw it at the nearby wall. "How soon can you come over?"

_"I'll be there before you can miss me."_

Phil laughed, before politely ending the call. Serena was a good friend. To the outside world, the relationship might have seemed a bit controlling, maybe even borderline abusive. After all, he had been the one to introduce her to the SES, and through that, had convinced her to shave off all of her hair. Her mother had had a real field day with that one. She had spent _hours_ telling Serena how Phil was 'no good' and that he would only hurt her in the end. Phil was thankful that Serena had never listened - they had had some good times together.

He stood up, stretching out his back. He stuffed all of the papers on the table into his bag, wanting the house to look moderately presentable for her arrival. His mother would have a fit if she knew that he had company over and the house was a mess. She was a neat-freak, bless her heart. One speck of dirt would have her cleaning the house for hours. Phil's motto was a tad different - what you can't see, can't hurt you. Once all of the trash was out of sight, he deemed the house clean. And just in time too, because just then, the doorbell rang.

"Coming!" Phil rushed out of the kitchen and down the main hallway, swinging the door open without bothering to check and see who it was. He immediately regretted that decision, however, when he saw who was on the other side of the door. "Brock..."

Brock smirked, a territorial glint in his eyes. His hands clenched and unclenched at his sides, like he was readying to hit something. "Surprise, surprise. You miss me, baby?"

* * *

Jeff refused to tell the doctor's what had happened to him or who had attacked him. He simply sat there, unable to do little more than nod his head and croak out a few answers to their simpler questions. He was able to recite his full name, tell them the name of the president of the USA, and what year it was - thus, a possible concussion was ruled out. Because of the blood found on his legs, they wanted to do a rape kit. Jeff refused. He insisted that he had not been raped, and they could not run the test without his consent. They ran several other tests as well, but all were inconclusive.

"May I have a word with you out in the hallway, Mr. Hardy?" The doctor asked, motioning to the closed-off area of hallway just outside of Jeff's room. "It will only take a moment."

Matt turned to his baby brother. "I'll be back in a second, okay?" Jeff nodded, not meeting his brother's eyes. "Here, why don't you take these and draw something while you wait?" Matt handed over his art supplies. Jeff forced a weak smile.

"Thank you." He mumbled, before flipping to a clean page. Matt noticed distantly that all of the pages were taken up by pictures of Adam.

Matt followed the doctor out into the hallway. "What is it that you wanted to discuss with me, doctor?"

"I need for you to confirm a few details for us, since your brother is being uncooperative." The doctor said, looking at Jeff's chart. "You say that you found him by the coat closet in your home, upon arriving home from work. Did he say how long he had been lying there?"

"No." Matt shook his head. "No, he didn't say anything about that. In fact, he didn't say much of anything at all."

The doctor sighed. "Did he say anything to you at all?"

"Yes." Matt confirmed. "He begged me to stop touching him, and I did."

"Mr. Hardy, I understand that this kind of situation can be difficult for a family to handle, and I sympathize with you all on the matter. From the way the marks appear, it looks as if someone attempted to strangle him and got scared off. Now, do you know anyone -,"

"No." Matt cut him off. But that was a lie. He _did_ know someone who was fully capable of doing this to Jeff, and the more that he tried to put it out of his mind, the more it kept coming back to him in flashing neon lights. "No, I don't know anyone that could have done this."

"Mr. Hardy, this is your brother's _life_ that we're talking about. It's not a game. If you withhold information from us, it could very well kill him."

Matt stared directly into his eyes and mumbled, "I don't know what you're talking about." And then, "Now, if you'll excuse me..."

He turned around and walked back into the hospital room. Jeff was hurriedly sketching away, distantly remembering a challenge that had been issued to earn a kiss from the lovely head cheerleader, Adam Copeland. The very idea of it caused his wounded heart to swell. In all of the times that he had been with Adam, the two had never shared a kiss. It was this heartbreaking truth that fueled him onward. If Jay were to kill him for being with Adam one more time, then he would die knowing what the pretty blond's lovely lips tasted like. Matt took a seat beside his brother, securing his hand around the smaller boy's wrist.

Jeff started to keen, the familiar words ready to fall from his lips again, but Matt cut him off. "I need you to tell me something, Jeff."

"What?" Jeff croaked, tears brimming in his eyes as fire shot down his throat.

"Was Dad the one that did this to you?"

* * *

Adam slithered out of bed, but not before making sure that Alex was still knocked out cold. He hadn't been wrong in the assumption that the boy would be a fantastic lay. He knew how to make Adam _feel_ without Adam doing a whole hell of a lot... and that was saying something. He dressed quickly, but quietly, not wanting to wake the boy up. He may have promised to stay with him until morning, but things like that just couldn't be done. That would be dangerous for everybody involved and he just wasn't willing to take that risk. Once he was dressed, he left the room and went downstairs, stepping out into the chilly September night.

He took out his phone and dialed the all-too-familiar number. He answered on the second ring. _"Hello?"_ A groggy voice said.

"Hey, Jay. Would you mind coming to pick me up? My car broke down and I can't seem to get ahold of the towing company..."


	15. Help Me

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone.  
**Rated:** M  
**Warning(s):** AU, Slash, Threesome, Teacher/Student, BDSM, pain kink, domestic violence, etc.

* * *

Adam counted himself lucky that Jay would still fall for the old song-and-dance. Sometimes, he liked to think that Jay really believed it. Sometimes, he tried to convince himself that Jay believed his car had broken down in front of a random person's house, who just happened to go to school with them, and happened to have the hots for Adam. And, on more than one occasion, was well-known for an inability to keep it in his pants. But, for whatever reason, whenever Adam called and cited 'car trouble', Jay would arrive within half-an-hour.

Jay's car pulled up the driveway now, looking especially ominous in the half-light of the automatic lights in the Riley's front driveway. He flashed the lights once, a universal signal for Adam to get the hell in the car before they had a repeat of their sophomore year - it was awfully difficult to explain a bullet hole in the front of your car to your parents, after all. Adam got up off of the step and made a mad dash for the passenger side door. He slid in and slammed the door closed, shooting Jay a thankful look. Well, at least, he _hoped_ it was thankful.

"Car trouble, huh?" Jay looked at him uncertainly.

Adam nodded, feeling a little uncertain himself. Jay _knew_. "Yeah. Car trouble."

* * *

They got back to Jay's house and the shorter blond unlocked the front door, allowing his boyfriend inside. It felt like forever since Adam had last been in his boyfriend's home, even if it had really only been a matter of weeks. "You have to be quiet. My folks are asleep."

Adam's face lit up with a radiant smile, and he said teasingly, "You can trust me. I'm quieter than a mouse and you know it."

Jay rolled his eyes, scoffing. "Oh, yeah. Says the kid who bitched about a sprained wrist _two__ months_ after the accident."

Suddenly, the light that had previously lit up Adam's face faded. He looked down, desperate to just _look away_ from his boyfriend. "Yeah, well, it still hurt." And that wasn't necessarily a lie, but it wasn't the entire truth either.

He still remembered that fall. It was an incredibly painful memory, seared into his brain. Oh yes, the pain in his wrist had hurt, but the pain in his abdomen had hurt _far_ worse. Ah yes, he remembered that day all-too-well. He had been on the top of the pyramid, rehearsing a cheer that he had done one thousand times. Only this time, things hadn't gone according to plan. The tower had wobbled and one of the girls had let out a shriek - a bee, as it would turn out, had been the cause of her distress - before causing the entire tower to tumble forward. Adam had landed on his back, his wrist contorted awkwardly underneath him. But that wasn't the most disconcerting thing...

One of the girls had screamed. Adam couldn't figure out what she was still yammering on about, considering the fact that the bee was now gone, but was suddenly distracted by a painful burning sensation ripping across his abdomen. He pressed down gently with his rapidly swelling wrist, managing to push himself up far enough to see what was distressing her. Blood. A mess of it. Staining his thighs. He knew what that had to mean, but couldn't bear to think about it. The baby... the pregnancy... Adam squeezed his eyes closed, squeezing his thighs together. Distantly, he could hear the footfalls of the nurse rush in his direction.

"...all. Adam? Adam, are you listening to me? Adam?" Jay snapped his fingers in front of Adam's face, pulling him out of his trance. Adam blinked slowly, the dull look still in his eyes. It caused something in Jay to clench. "Are you okay, Adam?"

"Huh? What? Oh, yeah, I'm fine." He forced a wobbly smile, continuing on toward the staircase that led to Jay's bedroom. "What were you saying?" Jay filled him in, reminding him that they were talking about the accident. "Oh, yeah." He countered lamely.

"You don't _sound_ okay, Adam." Jay said. He followed Adam up the stairs, trying to catch up with him but finding himself unsuccessful.

"I'm fine. There's no need to worry about it. Don't beat a dead horse, okay?" Adam offered.

"I'm not... beating a dead horse. That's kind of a grotesque saying, isn't it?" Jay asked, flinching a little bit.

Adam rolled his eyes, but tried to keep the rest of his demeanor into a blank mask. Finally, he tried a different approach. "I'm just a little tired, that's all. It's been a hard day and I was out in the cold for a long time, waiting for that damn tow truck." Keep up the lie, Adam. "I wanna go to bed."

"Well, then, why don't I just grant that wish for you?" Jay asked.

All of a sudden, Adam was off of his feet and tucked securely into the protection of Jay's arms. At first, Adam struggled, insisting that he didn't need to be carried like some sort of damsel in distress. But after awhile, he calmed himself down, burying his face in Jay's chest and closing his eyes. He felt an overwhelming surge of love from Jay, which he hoped would always be there. Backing into the doorway, Jay carried him into his bedroom and, without bothering to turn on the light - he knew the room like the back of his hand anyhow - he placed Adam on the bed. He didn't bother pulling the covers over him, preferring to cover him with his own body.

"Goodnight, baby." Jay said, kissing Adam on the temple. Adam smiled softly.

"Goodnight, Jay-Jay. Love you." He mumbled, allowing his eyes to fall closed.

"Love you too, Adam."

* * *

Phil swallowed hard, slowly and steadily backing away from Brock. For a moment, Brock simply crowded the doorway, enjoying watching his former lover squirm in distress. Thick beads of sweat rolled down Phil's face and with trembling hands he frantically searched for anything, _anything_ to use as a weapon against Brock. However, seeing as he would not allow his eyes to deviate from Brock's gargantuan form, this made his search rather difficult. After a moment of simply glowering at him evilly, Brock pushed off of the doorframe and slammed the door closed behind him. The sound resonated in the silence.

"Come on, baby. Don't be shy now." Brock smirked, advancing on Phil. Phil continued to back away until his back came in contact with the wall. "I know that you missed me. All those things you said in this restraining order here, did you?"

Phil didn't answer. He only continued to reach behind him, searching for the umbrella stand. It had to be around here somewhere...

"Can't talk now, babe? Cat got your tongue?" Brock came closer still. "I know what you want to say, baby. Go ahead. Tell me just how _sorry_ you are."

Once more, Phil was silent. He inched along the wall, just a little bit further now...

Brock, oblivious to his plan, continued to advance. "You know, babe, I'm a very patient man. But I don't have all day. I really don't. Just tell me that you're sorry. Say the word, and all of this will be good again. _We'll_ be good again. And this restraining order will cease to exist."

Phil flinched, knowing that it had been a lousy idea to take that thing out anyhow.

Now, Brock was on top of him. Pinning him to the wall, his heavy body leaning against Phil's. "What do you say, kiddo?"

"What do I say?" Phil offered a sickly sweet smile. "I'm very sorry... for what I'm about to do to you."

Brock barely had time to comprehend what Phil had said before the heavy metal handle of Phil's favorite umbrella imbedded itself into Brock's head. Brock howled, blood pouring into his eye from the nasty break in the skin. He stumbled backward, holding onto his bloody head. Phil gripped his weapon tightly, before making a run for it. He took to the stairs, heading for the only room in the house that was accessible by skeleton key only: his bedroom. By the time he made it to the second floor, Brock was coming to his senses and looking around angrily, ready to strangle him for what he had done.

Phil rushed into his bedroom and slammed the door closed, locking it as quickly as he could. He could hear Brock start to ascend the stairs. There wasn't much time. Quickly, he took the chair at his desk and jammed it under the handle. That would hold him a little longer - he hoped. Grabbing his cell phone off of the bed, he rushed into the adjoining bathroom, which was only accessible via his bedroom. He rushed in, slammed the door closed, and locked it as well. He turned the light off and climbed into the bathtub, drawing the curtain closed. Brock was banging on his bedroom door...

He dialed the only number he could think of. They answered on the third ring. _"Hello?"_

"Please... Please help me! He's going to kill me! Please! _Please_!" Phil was practically choking on his tears.

_"I'll be there in five minutes."_ And then the line went dead.


	16. Brock's Death

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone.  
**Rated:** M  
**Warning(s):** AU, Slash, Threesome, Teacher/Student, BDSM, pain kink, domestic violence, homophobia, etc.

* * *

The bedroom door flew open with an audible _crash_. If this would have been one of those comic books that Phil so loved to read, he would have taken pleasure in seeing every wooden splinter fly into the bedroom - followed by a cheesy action caption, like 'pow' or 'wham'. But this wasn't one of his comic books. This was real life. The threat was one-hundred percent real, and Brock was inside of his bedroom now... making his way toward the adjoining bathroom... with intent to do a whole hell of a lot of damage. Phil swallowed hard. Five minutes. He could be dead by then.

He locked his phone and stuffed it into his pocket, making sure that there was absolutely no light on in the bathroom. And then he pushed himself up against the side of the shower, squeezing his eyes closed and swearing that he could hear himself _breath_. It was absolutely _awful_. And he could hear Brock marching around his bedroom now, the loud _plunk, plunk, plunk_, of a strong, rod-like object hitting the floor between every step. What the hell was that? A cane? No, that didn't make any sense. An umbrella? Oh God, he had the umbrella from downstairs...

It had to have been five minutes by now. Hell, it felt like it had been an _eternity_. Brock was coming closer to the bathroom door. Phil could hear him swing the umbrella around now, knocking glass items from their shelves and breaking them - before breaking out into fits of manic laughter. And then, he was at the door. He tried the knob, perhaps thinking Phil too stupid to have locked the door. Phil listened to it rattle, breathing heavily and trying not to breath all at once. It was an awful feeling. And then, he started to beat the door with the umbrella...

_Crash_. A tinkling roll met Phil's ears. He didn't want to believe it. He _couldn't_ believe it. But, sure enough, the answering _clank_ met his ears seconds later. He didn't have to look to know what it was. Brock had knocked the doorknob lose, one side on Brock's side of the door and the other side rolling around on the tile floor. The door burst open. Light flooded the room. Phil felt his heart scrape up into his throat and lodge there, and he soon found himself choking, gasping for air, but for an entirely different reason. Brock's hands had found their way around his throat -

Sirens wailed in the distance and gravel kicked up into the air as the police arrived on-scene.

* * *

Jeff turned away from his brother. He furiously scribbled away on his drawing, making dark, complex lines on the originally white paper. The picture of Adam turned dark, brooding - a depiction of the blond that Matt had never seen before. "You never answered me, Jeff."

"Maybe I didn't answer you because I didn't _want_ to answer you. How about that?" Jeff bit back. He didn't mean to sound quite so sarcastic, but his caustic tone bit his brother to the core. After a minute, he added, "And no, Dad's not the one that did this to me."

"I don't believe you." Matt answered simply.

Jeff didn't bother to grace him with a glare. "I don't care whether you believe me or not."

"Do you know _why_ I don't believe you?" Matt asked, totally ignoring Jeff's comment.

"How many different ways can I say 'I don't care'?" Jeff pondered aloud. Matt narrowed his eyes at his baby brother, who continued on to say, "Look, I'm the one in the hospital bed here, and I can honestly say that I don't appreciate getting poked and prodded like I'm already dead."

Matt sighed. "I don't believe you because I know you, Jeff. I've known you my entire life. You have your tells. And one of them is not looking me in the eye when you're trying to keep something from me."

Suddenly, Jeff drew a thick, dark line through Adam's face. "I have nothing to tell you, damn it!"

"Your drawing says differently." Matt said. "You would never tarnish Adam's face like that under normal circumstances."

A moment of silence, then, "He looked through my drawings." He muttered.

"What?" Matt asked, realizing that Jeff was about to open up.

_"He looked through my drawings!" _This time he screamed it. His tone was loud enough to wake the entire hospital, but Matt didn't care. He was too busy recovering from a sudden attack by Jeff's drawing booklet.

With a dismissive wave of his hand, Jeff offered up permission for Matt to leaf through the pictures. This was an unusual occurrence, as Jeff normally only allowed Matt to see the finished product - never the work-in-progress. He was touchy that way. He seemed to think it would somehow tarnish the piece if someone saw it before it could be perfected. And now that he had been given such extensive permission to leaf through Jeff's personal art collection (both finished pieces and otherwise), he really didn't know what to do with himself.

But he soon realized the _real_ reason why Jeff had handed over the booklet so easily. Dark, red markings destroyed almost all of the pictures of Adam. Hurtful slurs and expletives were written across the page, lines were drawn over the stencils, water had been taken to the watercolors, and one of them looked like it had been destroyed with _sand paper_. And what made it worse was that he recognized the handwriting. It was undoubtedly their father's. He had destroyed Jeff's entire art collection, and for what?

Matt was absolutely horrified. His brother was different, yes, but that was what made him wonderful - he _certainly_ didn't deserve this! He looked up, broken out of his stupor by his sobbing brother. Gingerly, he held onto his aching ribs as the tears rolled down his swollen cheeks, and every sob that racked his body made him tremble with unbearable pain. Without thinking, Matt dropped the book to the floor and took his brother into his arms. Jeff caved into the warm, loving embrace, sobbing into his big brother's chest.

"He ruined them... Every last _fucking_ one of them... They're all _ruined_..." He continued in much the same way for several minutes, ranting nonsense into Matt's shirt and sniffling weakly. He felt like he needed to be sick, but refused to show that sort of weakness.

"I know. I know baby, I know." Matt consoled him, rubbing soothing circles onto his back. "What he did, it isn't right. And you deserve so much better than that. You hear me, baby boy? Your drawings are _beautiful_, don't listen to him."

Jeff pulled back a little, rubbing at his eyes. Then he rested his head on Matt's chest, a little calmer. "They _were_ beautiful, you mean. Now they're just a sign of how much he hurt me..."

Matt tightened his hold on Jeff. "You can always re-create them, can't you?"

"It won't be the same." Jeff sniffled. "They'll never be the same."

"No, I know that." Matt said. He ruffled Jeff's hair, "Nothing will ever be the same again."

"No, it won't." Jeff agreed solemnly.

"But I know one thing for sure. I'm getting you out of that house. What happened tonight... that was absolutely unacceptable. I simply won't allow you to be in danger like that anymore. I don't care how I have to do it. If I have to get custody from him, or just run away..."

Jeff looked up at him through half-lidded eyes, suddenly feeling incredibly drained. "You really mean it?"

"I wouldn't lie about something as serious as this, Jeff. Now get some sleep. We'll talk about this more in the morning." Jeff had never been so anxious to follow one of his brother's orders.

* * *

"It's okay, Phil. You can come out of the shower now." Anderson's voice was unnaturally calm as he used a bloody hand to draw the shower curtain away. Phil didn't even bother to look at him - his first concern was Brock.

"He's dead." Phil said, sounding oddly detached. "You shot him." It looked to be overkill, too. Two shots to the head, one through and through. One had hit him in the chest, which looked to be where the blood on Anderson's hand had come from.

"You okay, kid? You look like you just got run down by a tractor trailer." Anderson said, brushing what seemed to be plaster off of Phil. Nobody other than Phil and Brock would know what happened in the time it took Anderson to get upstairs, and it was best it remained that way.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I'm just... glad it's over." Phil forced a small smile.

"Well, just rest assured that it is - over, that is. Brock will never hurt you again." Anderson continued to speak, but Phil wasn't really listening. He was just staring at Brock's fallen frame, trying to hold in his disgust.

Six days until the football game.


	17. The Night Before

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone.  
**Rated:** M  
**Warning(s):** AU, Slash, Threesome, Teacher/Student, BDSM, pain kink, domestic violence, etc.

* * *

Phil wasn't in class all that week. At first, Chris wasn't really all that worried. After all, a high school was practically a breeding ground for all sorts of infections, and the constant close contact helped those infections to spread like wildfire. Chris reasoned that the boy was most likely sick, and he would be back in a few days. Whether he would be back to his 'normal' self or still be the Phil that Chris had come to know over the last few weeks, Chris didn't know. He could only hope for the best, and pray that he hadn't pushed too hard, too fast.

Then, news about Brock's death hit. The news was officially delivered through his family after his body was released from police custody (of course, the students were unaware of the fact that his body was in police custody at all - only the teachers received _that_ delightful nugget) and it hit the school _hard_. While Brock wasn't necessarily known for his conduct, he had certainly made his mark on the football team - and they would be heading into tomorrow's game minus their quarterback. But Chris wasn't too concerned about that. He was more concerned with _Phil's_ role in all of this.

This, of course, was how he found himself in the nurse's office during his lunch period, eating his pitiful, school-bought lunch with the lovely Maryse. They were in her 'private' office, which was closed-off to students. "So, what can I do for you, Mr. Jericho?"

Chris took a swig of his water, before setting it down on the edge of her desk. "I'm actually here to discuss Phil." The nurse cocked her head to the side, showing honest confusion and maybe the tiniest bit of surprise. "Its in regards to our earlier conversation, when Brock assaulted Phil."

Maryse sighed. "If that is the case, then I'm sure you remember that I _also_ said it's confidential information. I'm not like a faucet. I can't go spouting off information at your beck and call." Near the end, her voice became stiff and cold.

"I _also_ know that one of my best and brightest students hasn't been to school all week." Chris slammed his hands down onto the desk, startling the French woman. "He is _never_ absent for this long, sick or not. You've gotta have a better reason than that."

"I would appreciate it if you'd keep your voice down, Mr. Jericho. I have students _sleeping_ in the other room, waiting for their parents to come and take them home." The blonde woman sneered.

"I don't _care_ about the other students. I care about _my_ student!" Chris continued, not bothering to lower his voice as she had requested so 'nicely'. "And if you don't tell me exactly where he is and what happened to him, I'll turn you in for withholding information that could have gotten him killed."

"Is that a threat?" She asked. Her voice was eerily calm, her left eyebrow raised as she waited patiently for his answer.

Chris shrugged, leaning back into his chair. "It's whatever you want to make it out to be."

"You are a very unkind man, monsieur." She shook her head, before taking a small sip of her mocha-flavored latte.

"I'm not unkind, Maryse. You are just a very foolish woman." Chris said simply.

Maryse did not take too kindly to his assessment of her, but said nothing - and was wise not to. Taking a deep breath, she simply recounted all of the information that she was privy to. She was aware that Phil had filed for a restraining order against Brock, which Brock broke when he came to Phil's house. Phil was home alone on the first floor, waiting for a friend to come by and keep him company. He opened the door, expecting to see the friend, but actually encountering Brock. After being assaulted in the bathroom, Phil had watched Brock he gunned down in-front of him.

Chris' eyes widened. While he had expected it to be bad, he certainly hadn't been expecting _this_. And why would he have? This sort of thing didn't exactly happen on a regular basis. "Do you have any idea who the friend was?"

"Do you think me to be some sort of endless book of facts, monsieur?" Maryse snapped.

"I think that you value your job." Chris offered simply.

"In this recession, you are an ass to threaten me so cruelly." She snipped, tossing her blonde locks over her shoulder.

"Should I feel sorry for _you, _because Phil had to watch someone get gunned down in front of him? Or that he could be traumatized?"

Maryse sighed. "You know as well as I do that Phil doesn't have too many friends. He's not exactly a 'social butterfly', if you never noticed. His only close friend is Serena... and she's the one who was supposed to come over."

"Did she collaborate with Brock?" Chris asked.

"I can't read minds, monsieur!" She screamed, pulling at her hair. "How should I know that?"

Chris shook his head. "That wasn't directed at you." And then, "Thank you."

"Oh, you've no reason to be thanking me, Mr. Jericho. You see, I have an excellent memory when it comes to assholes like you. I will remember what you did and said to me, and when the time comes, I will pay it back - tenfold."

"Is that a threat?" Chris asked, not really feeling threatened at all.

"No, monsieur, no." She laughed, but it was clipped and sounded pained. "That is a _promise_."

* * *

Like Phil, Jeff _also_ wasn't in school all that week. His was an entirely different predicament, however. Matt had managed to get emergency custody away from their father and had temporarily moved them into a hotel room until he could get it together to purchase an apartment. But, much to Matt's chagrin, their father wasn't just lying down and taking it. He was actively challenging the emergency custody agreement, claiming that all of Matt's evidence was fabricated and even going so far as to say that _Matt_ was the only hurting Jeff - not the other way around.

All of the fighting was clearly taking its toll on Jeff. He didn't like to leave the hotel room, afraid that their father would somehow find them and take him away from Matt. He spent most of his time doodling (Matt had spent quite a lot of money buying him a new sketch book, new charcoal pencils, watercolors, and acrylics), but, surprisingly, none of the pictures were of Adam. Matt worried that their father had ruined that for Jeff. It seemed as if that muse had died off for Jeff, because what graced the pages of his _new_ sketch book were flowers, buildings, and still-life.

Matt wondered if it would help Jeff to hear Adam's voice - but he hadn't dared bring up that name since Jeff was released from the hospital. Jeff had been extremely adamant that they return home before they run away, so Matt had taken him home. All that he had brought into the house were his key and that old sketch book, and he came out with neither. But Matt had seen the smoke pouring out of the chimney and the soot on Jeff's hands, and he knew almost immediately what he had done. And while he never confessed to the book, he later confessed that the key to the front door was underneath the matt.

"Matt?" Jeff suddenly broke the silence, looking up at his brother through a cloud of rainbow hair. "Can I... ask you something?"

Matt was suddenly next to him, brushing the hair out of his brother's face. "Yeah, Jeff. You can ask me anything. You know that."

Jeff stared down at the flower pot that he had been working on so intensely. "Tomorrow night is the big football game. And I know you said that I was done going to that school, but I... I really want to go. To see Adam one last time."

Matt stared down at him for a moment, in absolute awe of his baby brother. After all that had gone down between himself, Jay, and Adam, he _still_ wanted to go back and see Adam one last time. "Are you sure about this, Jeffy? It could be dangerous."

"Are you kidding? Jay will beat the crap out of me just for looking at him!" His laugh was tight, and it was clear he didn't find it funny at all. "But I'm absolutely sure that its what I need to do... before we leave."

Matt stared at him for a moment longer, before finally saying, "Okay. I'll drop you off, then."


	18. The Football Game

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone.  
**Rated:** M  
**Warning(s):** AU, Slash, Threesome, Teacher/Student, BDSM, pain kink, domestic violence, etc.

* * *

The next day went by painfully slow.

Jay didn't see Adam all day, but not for lack of trying. The Cheer Squad (which consisted of Adam, Dolph, AJ, Layla, Kaitlyn, Brie, and Nikki) had been dismissed from classes at noon to start to warm-up for the big game. It was the first home game of the season and the Cheer Squad was in a manic frenzy to perfect their routine - and, for the first time, walk away with no injuries. Jay had walked by the football field several times on the way to his classes, more times than he needed to, actually, and had stopped to stare at his boyfriend stretching with the rest of the team.

Adam seemed perfectly at ease with the other members of the Cheer Squad. It was easy to see that they were all friends, and even more than that, that they were all comfortable with each other. Adam was stretching with Dolph. Their feet were pressed together and their hands were interlocked, and in a seemingly flawless motion, one would pull forward while the other leaned back, and then reverse positions. It was an oddly romantic gesture, very intimate - at least, more intimate than _he_ had been with Adam in a long time. He looked on, painfully jealous... even if he knew nothing would come of it.

Unlike most of Adam's one-night stands, Dolph was in a committed relationship. He'd been dating the school's resident computer techie, Zack Ryder, for a little over two years. There were even rumors that he was planning on proposing that year at graduation. Adam had admitted to having a little crush on him, but firmly insisted that he would never even dream of sacrificing their friendship for a cheap one-night stand. And Jay had believed him. But it was still difficult to look at them now and see them so close. In fact, it reminded him of a member of the football team that had had his eye on Adam for awhile...

"Hey, Jay!" Speak of the devil and the devil shall appear. Jay turned around, coming face-to-face with Alex Riley.

"Hey, man. I was just thinking about you." He clapped a hand onto Alex's shoulder, holding on a little too tight.

"Oh, really?" He tried not to sound too alarmed. "How come?"

Jay's smirk was dark... lethal, even. "I happen to remember an incident from a few days ago... it involved me picking up _my_ boyfriend from your house at three in the morning. Now, I don't know about _you_, but to _me_, that looks _awfully_ fishy."

Alex's eyes widened and he tried to tug away from Jay, only to realize that he was trapped. He swallowed hard. "I know w-what that looks l-like, but I... I swear... I would _never_..." But then, he realized that lying wouldn't help his case. "I am so, so sorry... I didn't... I..."

All of a sudden, Jay slammed Alex's muscular body into the nearest wall. Alex might've been bigger than him, but Jay was older and he held a lot more weight on the football team. "You keep your hands off of him, you understand me? Touch him again, and I swear -,"

Jay didn't even have to finish the threat. Alex was already a trembling mess beneath him, "I-I won't! I sw-swear! Just... _please_..."

Jay released him with a small shake of the head. He really wasn't worth his time. Alex let out a soft moan as he rubbed his sore neck, offered Jay a small glare, and then scampered off with his tail between his legs. Jay watched him go, feeling no better about himself or the situation with Adam. All he'd really done was scare a poor kid off of the football team and probably further distanced himself from Adam. He looked back out the window one more time. Dolph was helping Adam to stretch his arms, now. The way he was touching Adam made Jay burn with jealously. He stared for a moment, then walked away.

* * *

"You wanted to see me, sir?" It was Phil's first day back since Brock had been shot. He'd come halfway through the day, having been excused from his morning classes, and had spent most of the day in Chris' classroom.

Chris pushed back from his desk, slowly rising to his feet. "Yes, I did. Could you please take a seat in the first row, there?" He motioned to one of the seats directly in-front of his desk. Phil slid into it easily, dropping his backpack at his feet. "I wanted to say, first of all, that I'm very sorry to hear what happened."

Phil's face darkened considerably. "You don't have any reason to be sorry. It didn't have anything to do with you."

Chris sighed. Sitting back at his desk, he lazily drummed his fingers on the hardwood surface. "You remember when I said that you had to make the first move, Phil?" He asked.

"Yeah, it was a few seconds after you warned me about how dangerous my neighborhood was." Phil said.

"I don't think that you really understood what I meant." Chris continued, looking a little nervous now.

"Well?" Phil leaned back into his chair, crossing his hands behind his head and fixing his stare on Chris. "What did you mean, then?"

"I have... feelings for you, which are not the feelings which a teacher should have for their student. The feelings that I have don't want to go away, no matter how hard I try. And I've been treading incredibly carefully, because they could cost me my job, but -,"

Phil didn't want to hear any more. He easily slipped out of his chair, closed the distance between the row of desks and Chris' desk, and climbed on top of the desk. Chris could only watch, feeling the room suddenly grow hotter and his pants grow considerably tighter as Phil made himself comfortable on the desk. Desperately, he tried to remember if he had locked the door... he didn't think that he had. But that wouldn't matter. Hopefully. Phil slid his legs on either side of Chris, setting his feet on the arms of Chris' desk chair. Yeah, this definitely wasn't a normal teacher-student relationship.

For an instant, their eyes met. Chris could see several different emotions swirling in Phil's dark emerald eyes, most notably - pain, fear, hope, and _lust_. Phil's thick pink tongue flicked out and traced over the stark, white stitches in his swollen bottom lip. Rage filled him for only a moment, before he was distracted in the most wonderful way possible. Quickly, Phil closed the distance between them and connected their lips in a bruising kiss. Phil's fingers knotted in Chris' dress shirt, pulling him closer, their mouths moving over each other in perfect tandem. It was almost a shame when they had to draw back for air.

When Chris finally opened his eyes, he noticed that Phil had a cocky smirk on his face. "And here I was, getting tired of waiting around for you to get the balls to say something..." that smirk never faded as he leaned in to kiss him again.

* * *

**The Football Game**

Jeff stood off on the side-lines, where he knew that the cheerleaders would go after they performed their routine. The excitement in the air was palpable. Almost the entire school had turned out (but, then again, they always did) for the game, and there were so many of them, there was hardly enough room for the fans of the opposing team. He'd been standing there for almost a half-hour now, totally invisible to all those around him. He stuck a hand into the pocket of his hoodie, feeling the present that he had brought for Adam. Only a few more minutes now...

The present had a special significance to Jeff. It was one of the pictures that he had drawn in his old sketch book... and it was the only picture of Adam that hadn't been destroyed by his father. It was the picture that he had drawn on that first day of cheerleading practice, where the wind had been hitting him just right. He hadn't made it in time to turn it in to win the competition, but it would mean a lot to him to give Adam the picture. Where he was going, he wouldn't need pictures of Adam. If he was never going to be able to see him again, he didn't want any reminders of him. He wanted a clean break.

A second later, Jeff looked up at the clock. It was time for the game to start. Slowly, the cheerleaders started to file off of the field, their yellow and silver uniforms sparkling under the incredibly bright stadium lights. Adam was talking with his friend Dolph, smiling and laughing like Jeff had always wanted Adam to do with him. But then, Adam saw him. The green-eyed beauty's eyes lit up like a child on Christmas morning, and after finishing his conversation with Dolph, he raced over to greet Jeff. Throwing his arms around the rainbow-haired boy's neck, he almost knocked them _both_ over.

"Oh my God, Jeffy, you don't know how _worried_ I was when you didn't come to school for the last week." Adam said, before loosening his hold on Jeff. His arms were still hooked around Jeff's neck, though. "Were you really sick? Did something happen to your brother?"

Jeff only shook his head. "No. Neither."

Adam frowned, realizing that Jeff was being intentionally short. "What's the matter, Jeff?"

There was a pause, and then, Jeff sighed. "Tonight is my last night in-state, Adam." He reached into his pocket and pulled out the drawing, handing it to Adam. "And I... I just... I needed to get a few things off of my chest before I leave."

"You're _leaving?"_ He asked, crestfallen. Jeff nodded solemnly. "What is this, then? A goodbye present?" He was referring to the drawing.

"It's more than that. So... _so_ much more than that. I..." he swallowed hard, "It's taken me a long time to be able to say this, Adam, but I love you."

Adam's eyes widened. "W-What?"

"All of 'this'... it's never been about lust. At least, it hasn't for me. I couldn't care less about your body - even though it is absolutely gorgeous and all I want to do is worship it the way it _deserves_ - or your looks. Without them, you'd still be _you_. And I love _you_."

"You're lying." Because it _hurt_ to hear Jeff confessing to him like this. It physically _hurt_ him to hear someone call him 'perfect'. Without his looks, he was nothing. Brock had made that painfully clear. But Jeff continued to insist that he was telling the truth. "Why would you want me if I wasn't beautiful?"

"Because you're beautiful on the inside, and that's what counts."

Adam was crying now, and no matter how much it hurt Jeff to see that, he couldn't do a thing about it. He sniffled, "So, you're leaving now?"

"I have to." Jeff said. "My father would kill me if I didn't. And the only reason I would have to stay... he doesn't want me. He _never_ wanted me. He _used_ me. And that was okay. I thought that I could be used. But I guess I'm weaker than I thought."

Adam couldn't listen to Jeff talk down about himself any more. Quickly, he closed the distance between them. He hooked his arms around Jeff's neck and drew Jeff in close, pressing their lips together in a tentative, experimental kiss. Jeff pressed back, his tongue sneaking out and tasting Adam's. His fingers knotted in Adam's long, fluffy blond hair, pulling him as close as humanly possible. Adam moaned, feeling Jeff's hot, firm body pressed tightly against his own. This was the way it was meant to be, the way it _should_ have been. Neither noticed the pair of icy blue eyes watching them from the field...

Neither wanted to break the kiss, but their bodies needed oxygen and soon, the need became too great to resist. Adam drew back, huffing and puffing, looking flushed and thoroughly kissed. Jeff stared at him for a moment, savoring that gaze, knowing that Adam would never look at him that way again. Finally, Jeff released Adam... hesitating only a moment, looking as if he wanted to say something more... and then turning on his heel and walking away, excluding Adam from his new life forever.

Dolph came over, clapping a hand on Adam's shoulder. "You okay, buddy?"

"Yeah." Adam sniffled. He tucked the present into his pocket, before turning to Dolph with a false smile. "I'm fine."

"Glad to hear it. But, just an FYI, I think your boyfriend saw you sucking face with the artsy kid - what's his name again?" Adam helpfully supplied 'Jeff'. "And I don't think that he's too happy about it."

"Yeah, well, he can take it and shove it up his ass." Adam rubbed at his eyes, which were tearing up. "We've been getting real distant lately, and I think that I know why. Tomorrow, I'm breaking things off."

"Whoa, that's a bold move. Are you sure?" Dolph asked, looking at the taller boy with shock. Adam nodded firmly.

"I've never been more sure about anything in my life." There was a momentary pause. "Now, let's head out there and cheer the fucking house down."

It was halfway through the game and the home team was winning. Now, both teams evacuated the field and let the Cheer Squad take center stage. The cheer was a familiar favorite, and soon, they had the entire crowd cheering with them. In fact, it seemed like the only one who _wasn't_ excited was Jay. And then, it was time for the tower. Usually, Adam was somewhere in the middle, holding up the top tier. But the girl who was usually on top was sick, and he was next in line. The tower wobbled uneasily as he made his way to the top... they never once reached total balance. It was all a blur after that.

The tower rocked forcefully, before there was a shrill scream... and like a shooting star, Adam's crumpled body fell from the top of the tower.


	19. The Aftermath of the Football Game

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone.  
**Rated:** M  
**Warning(s):** AU, Slash, Threesome, Teacher/Student, BDSM, pain kink, domestic violence, etc.

* * *

Adam felt like he was _floating_. He didn't even notice that he had fallen. The terrified screams were all foreign to his ears. It was only when he hit the ground that he truly realized what had happened. It took him several moments to realize that, not only had he fallen badly, but he had also fallen on part of a metal bleacher. His leg was wrapped around the bleacher, bent awkwardly at the knee, and his arm was underneath it, badly bloodied and bruised. There was a long, deep cut along the side of his face, and his shoulder was dislocated. He couldn't feel from the neck down.

"Adam!" Somebody was screaming. Hell, _a lot_ of people were screaming. But there was one voice that floated above the others. One that he _should_ remember...

The nurse, Maryse, was at his side almost immediately, holding his hand and asking if anything hurt. Adam closed his eyes, thinking hard. Even if he couldn't feel anything, he knew that it _should_ hurt. His entire body should be _wracked_ with pain. But Adam couldn't feel anything at all, and he told her exactly that. His words were thick and slurred, like he was drunk, and his eyes were heavily dilated. On top of everything else, he probably had a major concussion as well. To test his words, Maryse gently started to disentangle him from the bleachers. Adam didn't so much as flinch. He just continued to stare blankly at the thousands of spectators seated around the arena.

He was drawing quite the crowd as well. The entire Cheer Squad had huddled around him, as close as they dared come, and both teams were approaching from their respective sides of the field. Adam could see one person pushing ahead of the rest of the home team, his blond head practically white under the harsh stadium lights. His breath was coming out in heavy puffs and was misting in the air. As he came closer, Adam could see his face. Jay. Jay Reso. He looked as bad as Adam should have felt. Tears were streaking down his handsomely rugged face and he was screaming Adam's name. Adam wanted to answer, but his throat was collapsing on him.

"Oh my God, Adam!" Jay was suddenly in the growing throng of people, who were being brought under control by the school security guards. "Adam! Adam, baby! Can you hear me? Oh my God!" He tried to get closer, but was violently pushed back by one of the guards.

"J-Jay..." That one word sent Adam into a violent coughing fit. His body jostled awkwardly and for the first time, he felt a real throng of _pain_. It was white-hot and everywhere and nowhere all at the same time.

"Oh, God, _Adam_." The tears were coming faster now. He shoved _hard_ against one of the guards, who answered with an even _harder_ shove. Jay almost fell over.

"Would you _please_ calm yourself, Monsieur Reso?" Maryse said, aggravated. "You're upsetting him, which is only making his condition worse!"

"W-What happened?" Adam choked out, the words growing heavier. Blood was frothing on his pretty lips, which made the crowd even more upset.

"Shh. You just had a little fall, that's all. Nothing to worry your pretty little head about, Monsieur. The ambulance will be here soon, and you'll get all your little ailments taken care of, and come back good as new." But everyone there knew that Adam would never be 'good as new' again.

"A-Ambulance?" Adam forced out. Every word seemed to exhaust him more.

"I think that you broke your neck, moncherie."

That was the last thing that Adam heard before he lost consciousness. Jay could barely choke back a sob as he saw the battered body of his boyfriend, laying half on the track and half on the bleachers, blood slowly trailing from his wounds... A broken neck? He'd never cheer again. At best, he'd be able to attend the games, sitting in the bleachers, watching as a silent spectator. At worst, he'd be paralyzed from the neck down for the rest of his life. Jay had seen them practice that routine a thousand and one times. It was absolutely perfect. And Adam was so specific about safety precautions too... What the hell could have happened?

The wail of an ambulance siren broke the uncomfortable silence that had befallen the football field. Not wanting to waste valuable time, the ambulance had parked on the field, just behind the post. Two men, who looked just about ready to end their shift, came out, wheeling the gurney toward Adam's broken body. The first worked on getting the neck stabilizer on Adam, while the second man got the necessary information out of Maryse. Adam was still completely out of it when they loaded him into the ambulance, and Jay couldn't help but think that it was better that way. The less he remembered about this whole mess, the better.

A few seconds after the ambulance departed, Dolph made his way over to Jay. While the two had never exactly been on the best of terms, seeing Jay crying had a strange effect on Dolph's frozen heart. "You should go with to the hospital." He said. "His mother shouldn't have to sit there alone."

"God, _he broke his neck_..." Jay whispered to himself, like it just wouldn't sink in. "How could that have happened? He's always so... so... _careful_."

"Accidents happen. That's the way that life is." Dolph dismissed.

"You were on the bottom of the tower, Dolph." Jay turned to the bottle-blond, his eyes pleading. "Did you... feel anything? Like the tower shaking or something like that? Maybe someone couldn't support their weight." Jay's eyes were hopeful, but Dolph cut him down bitterly.

"We're a team. We all support each other, no matter the cost." And Jay should know _everything_ about being a team player.

"Even teams have their weak-links." The football player retorted, but stopped himself. Now wasn't the time. "So, you really didn't feel anything."

Dolph shook his head stiffly. "No."

Jay wasn't sure if he believed him, but there was no time to doubt him. "Okay. I believe you."

Jay raced off to the locker room, wanting to change quickly before going to sit with Judy. Dolph watched him leave, unsure about what to think about this whole mess. There was some weight in the idea that someone had tipped the tower... but it certainly hadn't been him. And he didn't know anyone that wanted Adam off the team so badly, they would risk killing him to do it. Now that the crowd had dispersed, he looked back to the area where the track ran in front of the bleachers. Adam had fallen hard and he had fallen fast. Whoever had done this couldn't have tipped the tower... they must've shook it.

* * *

"I came as soon as I heard -," Jeff was charging into the waiting room, not even bothering to look up... until he saw a familiar blond sitting in a seat beside Judy. He paused. "I really don't think that this is a good idea, Ms. Copeland."

"I agree." Jay added smartly.

Judy rolled his eyes. "Well, it doesn't matter what _either_ of you think. You're both here for a reason. You mean a great deal to Adam, and if he were awake, he'd want to see _both_ of you here - and not only that, he'd want to see both of you _getting along_ as well."

Jeff looked down at his hands, clenching them and unclenching them at random intervals. "He wouldn't want to see me. Not after..."

"Did you have something to do with his fall?" Jay asked, his tone brutally bitter. He jumped at Jeff's display of emotion and the chance to make him look like the bad guy.

"No! Of course not! I _love_ him!" Jeff didn't even realize he was screaming, or that they were both attracting a lot of attention.

"Oh, yes, of _course_ you love him. You love him so much that you crawled into bed with him and fucked him _twice_! Sorry for the foul language, Ms. Copeland." She didn't seem too horribly upset, however. "I'm his boyfriend! _I'm_ the one who is supposed to love him - not _you_."

Jeff narrowed his eyes at him. Judy, totally oblivious to their little scuffle, was making herself as busy as possible, trying to keep her mind off of the situation. "Oh, so are you saying that I'm _not worthy_ of loving Adam? Because, if anyone isn't worthy of him, it would be _you_." Jeff hissed.

"You little snot-nosed, punk-ass _bitch_..." Jay said lowly, slowly climbing to his feet. "Do you know who you're talking to?"

"Yeah, I do. I'm talking to a pompous ass that can't see the greatest thing that ever happened to him is lying in an OR, fighting for his life!"

That was all that it took to start a full-fledged fight, right in the middle of the waiting room. There were few people in the waiting room, and almost all of them abandoned ship at the start of Jeff and Jay's little fight - the rest left soon after the fists started to fly. For awhile, Jeff was able to hold his own. Meeting each punch with one of his own, he even managed to tackle Jay to the ground and pin him there for the better part of two minutes. But then, Jay grabbed him by the hair and threw him down. Jeff's head connected with the ground _hard_, and Jay's class ring sliced into Jeff's cheek messily, leaving a nasty gash. Jeff mewled from the pain, causing Jay to immediately stop.

"Are you hurt?" He asked hurriedly, looking Jeff over frantically. When he saw the cut on Jeff's face, he panicked, "Oh, God, you're bleeding!"

"Why do you care?" Jeff asked. Not only was this a _drastic_ change in his behavior, but also... the cut was rather small, and Jay was making a big deal out of nothing.

Jay sighed, drawing back a little and staring into Jeff's dark green eyes. He released Jeff, allowing him to do whatever he wanted. The rainbow-haired boy chose to stay absolutely still. "You ever stop to think that I care a lot more than you realize?"

"W-What..?" Before he could add anything else, however, Jay continued on as if he hadn't heard.

"You want to know why I act like I hate you so much?" Jeff wanted to ask 'you _act_ like it?', but refrained. "Because I'm not _like_ Adam. All Adam has to do to get attention is to walk around in a short skirt and shake his ass - sorry, Ms. Copeland - and I'm not like that. I can't just throw it all out on the table like that."

Jeff's eyes were as wide as saucers and were clearly filled with disbelief. "You... _like me_?" He asked.

"Yeah, I do. A lot, actually." Here, he rubbed his neck sheepishly. "Not that I don't love Adam! I love him too. Both of you... equally... This is really awkward."

"You... like me." His voice was a lot softer now, considering even.

"Yes, I like you." Jay said it one more time. "The only reason I treated you so poorly was because I saw the way that Adam looked at you, and I was worried that he'd run of with you and I'd be left with nobody. I don't do well..." here, he kind of curled in onto himself, "being alone."

Jeff _almost_ laughed at the irony of the situation, but refrained, realizing that this was a very delicate moment that needed to be handled with the upmost care and sensibility. "The only reason I came back tonight was to tell Adam that it would never work, and that my brother and I were leaving town."

"_Were_ leaving?" Jay asked hopefully.

"The only reason that I managed to convince Matt to stay was that I could see how Adam was doing - we leave early tomorrow."

An awkward silence fell over them. Jay had thrown all of his cards out onto the table, not knowing what to expect, but he certainly hadn't expected no answer at all. He was fairly certain that even _rejection_ would be better than this. Jeff was simply staring at him, his eyes boring into Jay's, searching for any hint of betrayal or deception. When he didn't find any, he smirked a little. While Jay's declaration had certainly come out of the blue, it wasn't entirely unwelcome. He _did_ feel something for Jay... Maybe he loved him, or maybe it was simple, fleeting teenage love... He didn't know. But there was no time like the present.

Leaning forward, he gently touched his lips to Jay's, his hands wrapped around Jay's shoulders and holding him close to Jeff's body. Jay stiffened, his cheeks flushing, before he relaxed in Jeff's hold and started to kiss him back. It was undeniably wrong, kissing in the waiting room whilst they waited on news of their mutual love's condition... but what was so wrong about seeking comfort in someone who would so willingly give it? Jay's hands swept up, taking hold of Jeff's face, wiping the blood away from his cheek. Their mouths slowly slid over one another, their bodies drawing closer, closer...

The sound of heavy footfalls on the tile floor filled the silence, and suddenly, both boys drew away. The doctor stood in the doorway, a solemn look on his face. "He made it through the surgery with two metal screws in his neck and a metal splint in his leg. He's in recovery now, and one of you can go and visit him now."

* * *

"Thank you for walking me home." Phil said, smiling. They were holding hands, standing on Phil's porch. "You know that you really didn't have too."

"But I really did." Chris said. "After what happened with Brock? I can't afford to take any chances with you. You're much too precious with me."

Phil's smile never faded. It seemed to accentuate the thick, white stitches in his lip. Chris found his eyes irrevocably drawn to them. "Would you like to... come inside? My mom won't be home until late and... well... I don't want to stay alone. You understand, right?"

Chris had already walked away from the beautiful raven teen once. He wasn't about to be foolish enough to do it again. "Yeah. I'll stay with you for a little while." _I'll stay with you for as long as you need, and for as long as you'll have me._


	20. The Secret Is Out

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone.  
**Rated:** M  
**Warning(s):** AU, Slash, Threesome, Teacher/Student, BDSM, pain kink, domestic violence, etc.

* * *

Once they were inside, Phil turned to Chris, a shy smile on his face. "So, um... can I fix you something to drink?" He was shifting from side-to-side, knotting and unknotting his hands. Chris thought he looked uncharacteristically nervous, and sought to correct that.

He leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss to Phil's battered lips. He could feel the stitches scrape across his mouth, dry and course against the sensitive pink skin. "There's no reason to be nervous, kid. I can't promise that I'll never hurt you, but I can tell you that I'll do my best not to."

"I know." Phil's smile was a little more confident now. "I... I trust you." His words were painfully sincere, and Chris couldn't help but smile as well.

"That means a lot from you, and I can see how hard it is for you to say it. I promise not to take those words for granted." Chris assured him.

Phil's smile never faltered, but something changed in his eyes. Chris could tell that it took a lot for him to be able to accept that, but just the fact that he was _trying_ to meant more to him than words could ever convey. "Enough of this sap. You want something to drink or what?"

Chris smirked. "That's better. I'll just have a bottle of water."

Phil rolled his eyes, mumbling something about how Chris was so boring. Nevertheless, he led Chris over to the sitting room, before going through an archway and vanishing into the kitchen. Chris took a seat on one of the plush brown couches, taking the chance to look around the sitting room. The room was tastefully, but sparsely, furnished. There were two couches positioned at a right angle in the middle of the room, with a coffee table in front of them. To the left, by the staircase, was the entertainment system. And by the entrance to the kitchen, there was a dark brown bookcase filled with medical journals.

Chris could vividly remember one instance at a faculty meeting - where they were discussing the poor behavior of some of their students and how it could be addressed or corrected - when Maryse had mentioned that Phil's mother was a psychiatrist. A children's psychiatrist, no less. That explained all the medical journals, at least. Chris had to wonder if Phil's mother had any idea about her son's erratic behavior, or the fact that he had been in an abusive relationship, or that he'd nearly been killed less than a week ago. It killed him to think that his mother might not really care all that much about her son, especially when her son meant so much to him.

"I have your water." Phil said, tossing it to Chris. Chris caught it easily, cracking the lid, before placing it on a coaster on the coffee table.

"Thanks." Phil nodded his acknowledgement. His new boyfriend (if he could even call him that) sat on the couch across from Chris, pulling his knees into his chest and cracking his own water. "Phil... can I ask you something?"

Olivine eyes flickered up, meeting Chris' deep blue eyes, and then he nodded. "Yeah. Go ahead. Whatever you want."

"Are you particularly... _close_ to your mother?"

"My mother?" Phil asked, seeming shocked. Chris nodded. "I wouldn't... I wouldn't call us particularly _close_. We're closer than I am with my father, but... She works a lot. She's a renowned child psychiatrist, and all... She's not around a lot, and I understand that. I... I like being by myself."

Chris, however, looked skeptical. "Come on, Phil. You and I _both_ know that that isn't true."

"I've never had anybody that actually wants to be around me for very long." Phil said, shrugging. "Brock only wanted to hurt me, and Serena..."

"Serena is your best friend."

Phil wasn't moved by this revelation. "I don't know _what_ to believe anymore. She called me and told me that she wanted to come over... and the next thing I know, Brock's in the house, and he's... I did my best to fend him off, I really did... He just kept breaking down doors and... I was scared."

Suddenly, Chris was beside him. He wrapped an arm around Phil's shoulders, pulling him close and pressing a kiss to his mess of black hair. "You don't have to say anymore, Phil. I've heard enough. Just relax. I'll stay with you until your Mom comes home."

Neither of them really wanted to ruminate on the fact that his mother would probably call the cops if she saw a grown mad coddling her son on her couch... because that didn't matter and, deep down, both knew that Phil's mother wouldn't be coming home that night anyhow. Phil rested his head on Chris' shoulder, allowing his olivine eyes to slide closed. Chris gently stroked Phil's arm, humming softly and lulling him into a state of calm. This is how it should have been from the beginning, in a world where Brock Lesnar didn't exist. And as Chris watched Phil slowly succumb to his exhaustion, he silently promised his boy that this was how it would always be.

* * *

After much debate, it was decided that Jeff would be the one to go in first. The reason? Jeff would be leaving soon, and Jay told him that he should give Adam better closure. Carefully, Jeff maneuvered around the bed and took a seat in the plush white chair. Everything in the room was glaringly white, including Adam's bed clothes and sheets. Adam was awake and, contrary to what the doctor had told him, not bleary at all. He was staring at the wall, seemingly not seeing anything. He was talking to himself as well, mumbling a string of incoherent words beneath his breath. This troubled Jeff, but he didn't say anything about it.

"Adam..."

"The doctor said that I'll never be able to cheer again." Adam mumbled.

Jeff placed a hand on Adam's unharmed arm, forcing a small smile. "That's not the end of the world. Think about it. It could be worse."

Adam didn't seem to certain. "How?"

"You could have died." Jeff said. "And I don't know what I would have done if that would have happened."

"Well, I'm still alive. I guess that's a good thing." Adam said dejectedly. "B-But I'll never be beautiful again. Look at my face! Hideous!" He wrenched his good arm away from Jeff and started to claw at his stitches, drawing dark lines of blood to the surface. It took all of Jeff's power to pull his hand away.

"Adam... Adam, don't! You're not hideous! You're _gorgeous_!" Jeff said. He held Adam's wrist tightly, moving so that he could look Adam in the eye. Adam couldn't turn to face him because of the neck immobilizer. "Don't you ever think differently. I love you, and I won't sit here and watch you hurt yourself."

"Well, at least someone still loves me."

Distantly, he remembered seeing the carnage that Jay had left behind to defend his boyfriend's honor. He remembered hearing stories about how badly Jay had beaten the boys that Adam had cheated with. Hell, he'd even seen some of them himself. It wasn't pretty. And he definitely remembered the conversation that they had had in the waiting room, about how much he adored Adam, and how he couldn't stand to have someone else even _look_ at him. How could he _ever_ think that Jay wouldn't love him, just because of some silly, self-perceived imperfection? To Jeff, he was just as perfect as he had been before. Just... a little broken, now.

But that didn't mean that he couldn't be fixed. He was beautifully broken, and Jeff wished that he could be the one to sit down and piece all of the fragments back together... but he was leaving, and that would have to be a job for Jay. A labor of love. Jeff gently reached out, stroking Adam's bloody cheek, leaning forward and kissing his chapped lips... Adam was just so beautiful, no matter what he thought. No little scratch... or neck immobilizer... or leg cast... or arm cast... nothing would change that fact. Jeff wished that he could stay here forever, nursing Adam back to health... but that simply wasn't possible.

"Adam, you have so many people that love you. The entire Cheer Squad is tearing itself apart over what happened at the football game. Jay is a wreck out there and is blaming himself. And your mother is beside herself. I don't want to _ever_ hear you say that nobody loves you."

Adam blinked a few times, stunned into silence. Finally, he said, "Jay doesn't love me."

"How the hell can you say that? If you saw the mess of a man that's sitting out in the waiting room, waiting to come in and see you, to apologize to you, to _love_ you, then you wouldn't be saying that." Jeff said. "Tell me, Adam, that you're not serious."

"I'm going to break up with him as soon as he comes in." Adam said firmly, answering Jeff's earlier question.

"Adam..."

"You can't tell me what to do, Jeff. I'll do it whether you agree with me or not." The blond hissed, looking at the blood as it dried on his fingers.

"Fine." Jeff sighed, realizing that this argument was going absolutely nowhere and not wanting to get Adam worked up again. "But just promise me one thing." Adam raised an eyebrow, "Tell him about the baby first."

"Wha... how did you...?"

Jeff smiled sadly. He pulled Adam's sheet down a little bit, before pulling up his hospital gown. There was a long, almost-entirely faded scar on his belly. "You had a D&C at this very hospital. I know that that is what all of this is about, Adam - the baby. So, please... just tell him, before you break up with him."

An uncomfortable silence fell over the room. Thousands of memories flooded Adam's mind... all of which seemed to circle around his fall, which was so similar to his first fall. The fall that had cost him everything. The fall that had caused him to miscarry. Jeff was absolutely right. This was the same hospital, it very well could have been the same room, and that scar... that scar had never faded. Adam thought about all of the times that he'd attempted to tell Jay about the baby, all the times that he'd been so blatantly ignored. What made Jeff think that this time would be any different?

"I'll think about it." Adam said finally, not really sounding all-too-sure.

"That's all I can ask for." Jeff said, before stroking Adam's arm once more. "That's all I can ask for."

* * *

After Jay left, there was a little bit of a lag. Adam took in everything that Jeff had said, focusing heavily on how he had talked up Jay. That had never happened before. It was a well-known fact that Jay and Jeff didn't get along, so the way that he'd behaved... well, it didn't make sense at all. Jeff had washed the blood off of Adam's hand with hand sanitizer, and he know ran his clean hand over the scar from his D&C. A flicker of pain filled him as he touched it, so he removed his hand and pulled the gown down. It was just in time for Jay to come in. The blond stood at the end of the bed awkwardly, shifting from side to side like a metronome.

Adam sighed. He swallowed hard and steeled his nerves, taking Jeff's advice to heart. "Jay? We need to talk."


End file.
